A Family Affair
by FaithinBones
Summary: This is a collection of short stories about the Booth/Brennan family. They will take place after season 12.
1. Chapter 1

(Sometime in the future)

A/N: I was going to start posting this story a few weeks from now, but since the Bones fandom is a little sad right now I thought I'd post this chapter today. I hope it brings you a smile.

I don't own Bones.

Ooooooooooooooooooo

Her shriek could be heard throughout the house. His heart racing wildly, Booth jerked awake, leaped from the couch and ran into the kitchen. Brennan who was in the bedroom dusting furniture, dropped her cloth and rushed down the hallway towards the living room.

Upon charging into the kitchen, Booth skidded to a stop and stared at a scarlet faced Christine pointing at her little brother who was sitting on the cabinet and chewing a cookie. "Do you see this . . . Do you see this Dad?"

Brennan entered the kitchen and shook her head. "Hank why are you eating a cookie? You know dinner will be ready in an hour."

His eyes wide with disbelief, Booth turned to look at his wife. "This is what you're worried about? A cookie? How about the fact that he's naked?" Booth turned to look at his son. "Hank, where are your clothes?"

Surprised that he had an audience, Hank placed his cookie down on the counter, slid down on to the chair next to the counter, then to the floor where he stood looking up at his father. "I drank a formla and now I visble."

"What?" Booth took off his t-shirt, slipped it over the boy until the child was completely covered from neck to toes and picked him up. "What do you mean?"

"I think he means he drank a formula and he thinks he's invisible . . . Is that right Honey?" Brennan attempted to keep a straight face, but her smile soon broke through and with it a chuckle.

Hank nodded his head. "Yes I'm in . . . invisible."

Booth glared at Brennan. "You aren't helping." His attention back on his son, Booth shifted the boy so he was now on his right hip. "Hank, you are not invisible. We can all see you."

Disappointed, Hank sighed. "I guess the formla not working."

"It's the formula isn't working Hank." Brennan automatically corrected him.

"Yes, let's worry about grammar right now." Booth was getting very annoyed. "Hank explain to me about the formula. What gave you the idea you could make a formula to make yourself invisible?

His gaze flitting between his parents, Hank decided to stare at his sister instead. "I watched the in . . . invisible man on TV. He had a formula so no one could see him."

"You see Daddy." Christine was outraged. "I told him he was too young to see that movie and now look what's happened."

Patiently, Booth turned to look at his daughter. "Pumpkin, he's five and that movie is rated G. Why don't you go to your room and play for a while, while me and Mom take care of this? Okay?"

Her face scrunched up, she threw her hands in the air. "Thank God my friends weren't here." With that, Christine turned and stormed out of the room down the hallway to her bedroom and slammed the door shut.

His divided attention now solely on his son, Booth shook his head. "Movies are make believe, Son. You can't make yourself invisible by drinking a formula. What they do in movies is just pretend. Do you understand?"

His thumb now in his mouth, Hank nodded his head.

Gently, Booth removed the boy's thumb from his mouth and kissed him on his cheek. "Okay. Now I think you need to go back to your room and put your clothes back on."

"Hank, what you did was wrong." Brennan moved closer until she was standing beside her husband and son. "You wanted to be invisible so you could steal cookies and eat them when you knew that's against the rule. You may not eat sugary snacks within an hour of meals."

Solemnly, Hank nodded his head. "I sorry."

"Well as long as you're sorry and you don't do it again." Booth lowered the boy to the floor. "Go put your clothes back on and bring me my t-shirt back."

Hank pulled the hem of the shirt up so he wouldn't trip on it as he raced from the room, down the hallway into his bedroom.

Booth leaned against the counter, picked up the cookie and took a bite out of it. "What?"

Glaring at him, Brennan shook her head. "This is why Hank wants cookies between meals. He sees you eating them whenever you want to and he tries to emulate you."

After he swallowed his bite of cookie, Booth shook his head. "One, he's not here, so he can't see me eat it and two I am not about to let a perfectly good chocolate chip cookie go to waste."

The sight of her husband standing in the kitchen, shirtless made Brennan appreciate his workout regimen. Moving closer, she leaned against him, wrapped one of her arms around his broad chest and removed a crumb from the corner of his mouth with her free hand. "I can think of better ways to enjoy myself besides eating cookies. Can't you?"

Booth smiled and placed the half eaten cookie on the counter. "Oh I definitely can." He moved his arms around her and kissed her. Soon the kiss was moving into dangerous territory when they were interrupted. "For gosh sake. You guys can't do that in the kitchen where the food is."

Slowly, the couple broke apart and stared at their daughter. Brennan smiled. "We were just kissing, Christine. We're weren't having sex."

"Bones!" Booth interrupted his wife and moved her away from his body. "Christine, we kiss all the time. That's how we show we love each other. You're old enough to know that's a good thing."

Hank charged back in to the room and handed his father the t-shirt he'd been given. "Here Daddy."

Booth slipped the t-shirt over his head and made sure the hem was straight and not bunched up in the back. "Thank you Hank." He patted the boy on the head. "Why don't you go get a book and we'll read together?"

Excited, Hank raced from the room towards the shelves in the living room. "Oh boy!"

Once the boy was out of the room, Booth leaned against the counter. "Christine, your brother has a great imagination just like you do. You used to have an invisible friend and his name was Buddy. Don't you see it's the same thing that Hank is doing? He's having fun using his imagination. We have to give him a little space to be a little boy."

Christine crossed her arms against her chest. "It's okay if he's pretending Daddy. It isn't okay to walk around without clothes on. It's just embarrassing." With a huff she turned and stalked out of the room, down the hallway and back into her bedroom.

Booth sighed and placed his arm around Brennan. "Remember when she really loved her brother?"

"She still does, Booth." Brennan placed her arm around his waist. "She's just getting older and she's kind of prudish . . . like you."

"Me?" Booth pulled her against his body. "If we didn't have kids in the house and I had to go listen to Hank read I'd show you just how wrong you are about that."

Brennan laughed. "Well, perhaps tonight when the children are asleep."

His eyes glinting, Booth gave her a menacing smile that sent shivers through her. "Count on it."

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Let me know what you think of my story. Reviews are greatly appreciated. Thank you.


	2. Chapter 2

(Sometime in the future)

Thank you for reviewing my story. I appreciate it.

A/N: These stories aren't going to be told in a straight timeline.

I definitely don't own Bones.

Ooooooooooooooooooo

Christine marched into the house, closed the front door firmly behind her, removed her gloves and jammed them into her coat pockets. Her eyes filled with ire, she moved down the hallway and knocked on the bedroom door of her parents. "Mom . . . Dad . . . I need you to see something."

After a few seconds, she heard her father's sleepy voice. "Can't it wait until tomorrow Honey?"

Her arms crossed against her breasts, Christine glared at the door. "Sure, whatever." Exhaling deeply, she turned and marched down the hallway and slammed her bedroom door after she was in the room.

The sound reverberated down the hall and Booth knew his daughter was angry. With a groan, he rolled away from Brennan and opened his eyes. "Your daughter is in a snit about something."

Refusing to open her eyes, Brennan pulled her blanket tighter around her shoulders. "Shh, I'm sleeping."

Booth glanced at the clock on the nightstand and sat up. "It's 1:20. She's late getting home from her date." Booth sat on the edge of their bed, reached down to the floor for his boxers, slipped them on, standing to finish the job. "Your daughter came home an hour and twenty minutes past curfew, Bones."

"Shhhh, I told you I'm sleeping." Brennan didn't think an hour and a few minutes late was worth getting upset over.

Annoyed, Booth grabbed his robe, pulled it on and glared at Brennan. "Okay, fine. I'll take care of this." He continued to stare at his wife, but after a few minutes he realized she wasn't going to react at all. "Fine."

"Shhhhhhhhhh."

After he opened his bedroom door, Booth walked down the hallway to his daughter's room and paused momentarily outside her room to brace himself. Rolling his shoulders, he raised up his hand and knocked. "Christine, I'm coming in." He didn't hear any protests so assumed she was decent.

Cautiously, he opened the door and stuck his head in the room. His daughter sitting on the bed glaring at him, Booth stepped into the room and placed his hands on his hips. "You're an hour twenty past curfew . . . why?"

Christine shrugged her shoulders and sighed. "Alex had a flat tire. He had to stop and change it and it took a while. It was the first tire he'd ever changed. He had to call his Dad for instructions."

Since those things were unpredictable, Booth nodded his head and moved on. "What do you want me to see that's so important that you had wake me up for?"

Her eyes flashing, Christine grabbed her coat and slipped it on. "It's outside in the front yard."

Since the front lawn was currently sitting under four inches of snow, Booth did not want to go outside. "Honey, can't this wait until tomorrow? I'd have to put on a coat and pants and boots to go out there."

She sniffed and pursed her lips. "I think it is."

Since he knew he wasn't going to go back to bed unless he mollified her, he left her room and went back to his bedroom. After he removed his robe, he removed his pants from the chair next to the bathroom where he'd left them earlier that evening and put them on. Grabbing his boots, he glared at Brennan and dropped them on floor on purpose. When her reaction was to turn over and face the other way, he sighed, pulled the boots on and stood up. 'Your daughter is making me go outside in 20 plus weather just so you know that. If I get sick you have to take care of me."

Brennan raised her hand and waved it. "I promise." Once her hand was lowered she pulled her blanket tighter around her. "Wear a coat."

His eyes mere slits, Booth clenched his jaw, grabbed his coat from the closet and shrugged it on. That done, he left the bedroom and found his daughter standing at the front door waiting for him. "Okay, let's get this over with."

As she pulled door open, Christine flipped on the porch light and stepped outside. The cold wind hitting Booth as he stepped outside, he shivered as he closed the front door behind him and jammed his hands into his coat pockets. "What do you want me to see?"

Christine moved across the driveway and into the front lawn. Sweeping her hand around, the young woman shouted out. "Just look at what he did. Just look, Dad."

Not sure what he was seeing, Booth moved across the driveway and over to where his daughter was standing. There was a medium sized snow man standing in the yard wearing a pink Chain Smoker's concert t-shirt. Surrounding the snow man was a circle of tiny snow men, all holding little signs in their twig hands. Curious, Booth leaned down, plucked one of the signs up and read it in the faint light from the porch light. _Smoking makes your teeth green._

The situation was too funny for Booth and he laughed. Furious, Christine gestured at the snowman. "That is my vintage concert t-shirt. I paid a lot of money for that shirt and look at it . . . and . . . and those signs. Really Dad, Hank has gone too far."

Booth shook his head and placed the sign back where he'd got it. "Come on Honey. This is funny and a little snow isn't going to ruin the shirt . . . if it does he can pay for it from his allowance."

"Unbelievable." The seventeen year old threw her hands up in the air. "This is just unbelievable. You let him get away with far too much Father."

"Father?" Booth moved back across the yard with his daughter following him. "I let him get away with too much huh?" Booth opened the door, waited for his daughter to enter the house, closed and locked the door. "Who came home 1 hour and twenty minutes late tonight? Did you see me make a big deal about it? No you didn't. Hank is twelve years old and he's smart. Probably too smart for his own good, but smart. He shouldn't have borrowed your shirt and I'm going talk to him about it in the morning, but you young lady have a phone and you could have called me and let me and your Mom know you were going to be late."

"This isn't about me." Christine pulled her coat off. "I told you Alex had a flat tire."

Booth poked his tongue in his cheek and stared at his daughter for a few seconds. "It doesn't take over an hour to change a tire, young lady. "I may be getting old, but I'm not senile yet. I think I may let both you and Hank get away with too much. I may make some changes around here . . . yeah, I may do that." Booth turned and stomped down the hallway to his bedroom. Before he entered the room, he paused and looked back at his daughter. "You and me are going to talk about curfews tomorrow." That said he closed his door, pulled off his coat, walked over to the closet and hung it up. Next he removed his boots and pants and dropped them on the floor near the chair. That finally done, he flipped up the blanket, moved on to the bed and placed his arms around Brennan who was instantly awake.

"Booth you're cold and you're making me cold." Brennan wasn't happy with her husband. She had been warm and now she wasn't.

Uncaring Booth pulled her tighter against his body. "If you get sick I'll take care of you." Booth closed his eyes and sighed. "Our son is aggravating our daughter again."

"What did he do?" Brennan was now fully awake and curious.

Booth chuckled. "Hank borrowed one of her concert t-shirts and put it on a skinny snowman and made a few little snowmen and they're surrounding the t-shirt wearing snowman holding little signs."

Intrigued, Brennan had to ask him. "What do the signs say?"

Just to irritate her, Booth refused to say. "Nope. You didn't go look, so I'm not saying. You can see them in the morning."

"Are they insensitive?" Brennan now wished she had gone with Booth earlier.

Booth thought about it and responded. "Nah . . . well, maybe. I only read one of them. It wasn't too bad, but they are a jab against his sister. I'm going to have to take some pictures though."

"As evidence?" Brennan closed her eyes and tried to relax now that Booth was warmer.

Amused, Booth snorted, "No as a keepsake. It's cute, in fact, it's pretty damn funny . . . He didn't break a law or anything. Now go to sleep . . . the next kid that wakes us up is your duty. I did mine for the night."

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Let me know what you think of my story. Thank you.


	3. Chapter 3

(In the future)

Thank you for reviewing my story. I appreciate it.

I really don't own Bones.

Ooooooooooooooooooo

He leaned against the doorway and smirked at his sister. "So you got to go to work this morning? Boy that's rough."

"What do you want, Hank?" Christine combed her hair and made sure everything was in place while she looked at the mirror over her dresser. "Why aren't you playing or reading or whatever it is you do?"

His smirk now wider, Hank crossed his arms against his thin chest. "I'm going to play video games all day. I don't have to work, so I get to stay home and have fun all day."

Irritated, Christine turned and gave her little brother a baleful look. "I work so I can have extra spending money you little toad."

Hank snorted and shook his head. "Dad gives me an allowance so I don't have to work. I get to do what I want."

Her tongue now in her cheek, her eyes mere slits, Christine quickly grabbed a pillow from her bed and threw it at her brother who quickly jumped back into the hallway. His hands on his hips, Hank shook his head. "Ha . . . better watch your temper, Christine. Mom told you to be nicer to me."

Calmly, Christine walked over to the doorway, leaned in the hallway and picked up the pillow. "I am being nice to you. I could have easily smothered you with this pillow and . . ."

"Christine!" Booth stood in the doorway of his bedroom and glared at his daughter. "That is not the way to talk to your brother. We do not threaten people in this house."

Embarrassed, Christine turned to face her father. "He started it, Dad. He . . ."

"Christine." He'd overheard Hank taunting his sister, so he knew why she was upset. "Honey, you're sixteen years old. Please act like it."

Gleefully, Hank stuck his tongue out at his sister.

"Hank!" Booth moved down the hallway and placed his hand on his youngest child's shoulder. "Go eat breakfast."

He knew he'd gone a little too far, so Hank ran down the hallway to the kitchen to escape his father's glaring look.

Once the boy was out of sight, Booth sighed and turned his attention towards his daughter. "Christine, he's just eleven. Don't let him get to you."

"He's terrible, Dad." Frustrated, Christine stomped over to where her orange store smock was laying, picked it up along with her purse and moved back towards the doorway. "He's the baby of the family and he thinks he can get away with anything and he does."

When she exited the bedroom, Booth placed his arm around her shoulders. "Hey, I had a little brother too, remember. Jared drove me nuts when we were kids and when we were adults, but I learned to ignore him . . . well most of the time. Hank bugs you because he knows he can. You have to just let his words slide off of you."

Christine sighed and nodded her head. "I still miss Uncle Jared. He was nice to me. I still have the doll he gave me the Christmas before he died."

Even though Jared had avoided Booth most of the time the last few years of his life, the man had shown up the day before Christmas the last year of his life with a present for Christine and Hank. Booth had been shocked at the gesture, but had been grateful for his brother's kindness. If only he'd known that was the last holiday for Jared. Maybe he should have done more for his brother, but that was in the past and he couldn't do anything to fix it now. "Yeah, I miss him too. He was a pain in the butt, but he was my brother . . . just like Hank is your brother. Try to be patient, Pumpkin, please? You never know what the future will bring."

"I'll try." Christine entered the kitchen, grabbed a cereal box from the counter and found it empty. Glaring at Hank who was holding a bowl full of cereal against his chest, Christine slammed the box back onto the counter. "Dad, he has the last of my favorite cereal."

As Booth entered the kitchen, he slowly blew air out between his lips, he glanced at the ceiling and prayed for patience for himself.

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Two days later and the weekend was over, Hank woke up and found his sister in the kitchen eating breakfast. "Hey." Grabbing the box of his favorite cereal, Hank found a few crumbs in the bottom of the box and looked at his sister with a look of shock. Her bowl half filled with the remains of his cereal, the boy spluttered. "You . . . you hate Rocket Pockets . . . why are you eating Rocket Pockets?"

A slight smile on her lips, the teenager scooped up some of the cereal and stared at it. "I think it's horribly sweet, but you ate the last of my favorite cereal and this is all we have besides the tree branches and twigs that Mom is always trying to get us to eat. She's going shopping this evening, so it was this or scrambling some eggs and I didn't feel like it . . . maybe the next time you'll leave my cereal alone. If you hadn't eat my cereal you'd still have yours."

The boy stared at his bowl and shook his head. "What I'm supposed to eat?"

Christine pointed over her shoulder. "Eat some toast or Mom's twig cereal."

Hungry and frustrated, Hank pushed his lower lip out and pouted. "All we have is wheat bread. Dad ate the last of the good bread last night . . . I'm sorry, Christine. I won't eat your cereal again. Please don't eat my cereal anymore."

Feeling guilty, Christine sighed and swallowed her bite of cereal. "Do you want this bowl of cereal? I can make toast for myself."

Surprised at her offer, Hank held his hand out. "Thank you." After the bowl was in his hands, the boy started to eat. "What are you going to do today?"

A rather smug look on her face, Christine reached into the pocket in her jeans, pulled out a folded piece of paper, unfolded it and handed it to the boy. "Well, since I can't go anywhere until Mom or Dad come home, I'm going to mow the lawn and once that's done, I'm going to read. Dad told me to give you this list when you wake up."

Curious, the boy took the piece of paper from his sister and started to read it. As he read it, his face became pale. "Hey, this isn't fair. It's Summer Break. I'm on vacation."

Amused at the expression on her brother's face, Christine chuckled. "He told me it's time you started doing chores around here . . . You know he overheard you bragging to me about not working . . . a big mistake little brother . . . a really big mistake."

This list included vacuuming the carpets and floor, dusting the furniture and cleaning the bathrooms. "I'm a kid. I don't know how to vacuum or clean the bathrooms."

"I'll show you before I mow the lawn." Christine popped some bread into the toaster and pulled out the jam from the fridge. "Mom taught me how to do that when I was ten. It's easy . . . If Mom doesn't have time to shop tonight I'll get her to give me some money and we'll walk to the store tomorrow and buy some essentials like cereal."

His bowl of cereal finished, Hank stared at Christine as she slathered some jam on her toast. "I'm still hungry."

Resigned, she popped more bread in the toaster and gave her jam covered toast to her brother. "Here, I'm not making eggs, so it's toast or nothing."

Grateful, the boy took the toast and smiled. "Thank you. The next time you make eggs, would you show me how?"

"Sure." Christine leaned against the counter and waited for her toast to pop up. "Dad left me some money, so we can order take-out for lunch."

Surprised, Hank threw his fist in the air. "Oh Boy. Can we have pizza?"

Her toast ready, Christine grabbed it and spread some jam on it. "Sure why not. As long as you do your chores first. You can play video games this afternoon."

Hank munched on his toast, his eyes on his sister. "Thank you Chrissy. I'm sorry I made fun of you about your job."

"That's alright." Christine sat down at the counter and ruffled the boy's hair. "It's what little brothers do."

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I hope you liked me story. Let me know what you think of it. Thanks.


	4. Chapter 4

(The Future)

Thank you for reviewing my story. I appreciate it.

I don't own Bones.

Ooooooooooooooooo

The leaves raked in the front yard into several piles, Booth moved into the backyard to begin to rake the oak leaves covering part of the yard. After being told by their mother to go outside and play in the fresh air, Christine and Hank each donned a jacket and walked out of the front door into the nippy air.

"Oh boy." Six year old Hank saw the piles of dead leaves and immediately ran towards one of the biggest pile and dived into it. Waving his arms around, he laughed and jumped up and down in the crunchy leaves. "This is so much fun, Chrissy. You need to jump in one too."

Her arms across her thin chest, Christine shook her head. "If Dad sees you messing up his piles of leaves he's going to be mad."

"Nuh uh." Hank jumped backwards into the pile and laughed. "He won't care."

Certain that her father would care, Christine slowly shook her head. "Did you know that slugs and leeches like to hide in dead leaves?"

Standing up, Hank looked at his sister in confusion. "No they don't . . . um, what are slugs and leeches?"

Her face as serious as she could keep it, Christine sighed. "Gosh don't they teach you anything in school? Slugs are snails. You know what snails are. Slugs just don't have shells that's all."

Nervously, Hank looked down at his body, but didn't see any slugs. "What are leeches?"

Tsking, Christine shook her head. "Well, leeches are these sluggy looking worms that drink blood from anyone they can. They bite you, but their mouths are so small you can't feel it. They crawl onto you then they move up your pants legs and under your shirt and they bite you. Like I said, their mouths are small so you don't feel them bite, but boy when they do they suck blood from you. They just drink and drink and drink . . ."

With a scream, Hank moved out of the pile of leaves and stripped off his jacket. Next he removed his shirt and pants and looked down at his stomach. "Look on my back Chrissy. Are there any leeches on me?"

Moving around Hank, Christine quickly leaned over, picked up a small twig and pressed it against her brother's back. "Oh, gross here's a leech. Don't you feel it?"

Terrified, Hank screamed and ran towards the front door and as quickly as he could he opened it and ran into the house. "Mommmmmyyyyyy."

Calmly, Christine picked up her brother's jacket, shirt and pants and walked towards the door. Before she could reach it, her father ran around the side of the house and straight to where she was. "Christine was that Hank screaming? What's going on? Is he hurt? Where is he?"

As she turned to face her father, Christine realized she was probably going to be in serious trouble very very shortly. "Hank was jumping in the pile of leaves and he thought a leech had got on him. He took off his clothes and ran into the house."

His eyes mere slits, Booth stared at his daughter rather intently. "And why the hell would he think he had a leech on him? How does he even know what a leech is?"

"I may have told him about them." Christine averted her gaze and stared at the sidewalk. "I was telling him about stuff I've learned in biology class. How was I supposed to know he would think he got one on him?"

"Christine?" Booth reached out, took the clothes from her hands and pointed at the door. "Go in the house."

Certain she didn't really want to face her mother, Christine tried her Boothy charm smile. "Would you like me to finish raking the leaves in the backyard? I wouldn't mind."

His eyes glinting, Booth moved over to the door, opened it and stepped back. "No way. You created this symphony, so you have to dance to the music."

Reluctantly, the pre-teen walked into the house and could hear her brother wailing in the living room." Uh oh."

"Mmm, yeah uh oh." Booth followed her in to the house and closed the door behind him.

As they moved closer to the living room, both father and daughter saw Brennan squatting next to Hank and moving her hands up and down his back. "Honey, there are no leeches on you. I promise. Most leeches prefer shallow bodies of water. It would be extremely unlikely to find one in a pile of leaves in our front yard."

"Chrissy said she saw one on my back." The boy trembled and tears followed his words. "I felt it Mommy."

Christine felt her father's hand on her shoulder and looked up at his dark face. "It looked like a leech to me."

Slowly shaking his head, Booth gently propelled his daughter over to where her mother was waiting. The girl knew she was in trouble and nervously offered up an apology. "I'm sorry?"

"Are you saying you're sorry or are you asking me whether or not you're sorry?" Brennan picked up her son and held him in her arms while glaring at her daughter. "Well?"

She knew she had better fix it or her situation might worsen. "I'm sorry. I was just teasing him. I didn't know he was going take me seriously."

Hank glared at his sister and complained. "That wasn't nice Chrissy. I was playing. You were mean."

Booth shook his head and held up the boy's clothes. "Come on Hank. We'll get you dressed again and we'll go out for some ice cream." Booth turned to look at his daughter as the boy slid out of his mother's arms. "As for you Missy, you will go to your room and memorize 10 words in the dictionary and not easy ones either." He grasped his son's hand and faced his wife. "Bones you pick the words and make them really hard too."

Amused, Brennan tried not to smile. "I will. When you go to the ice cream shop bring me back a quart of coconut ice cream, please."

"Do I get any ice cream?" Christine was certain the answer was no when both parents turned to look at her. "I guess not."

Snorting, Booth shook his head. "I guess not is right."

After Hank had his clothes back on, Booth left the house with the young boy leaving his daughter with Brennan. "This isn't fair. I was just joking."

"Whoever told you that life is fair, lied to you." Brennan moved across the room, picked up the American Collegiate Dictionary from the child's desk and opened it. "Perhaps words that begin with x this time."

"X?" Christine rolled her eyes. "No one has a sense of humor around here."

Brennan handed the book to her daughter. "You should know that's true by now, Christine." Amused at the dumbfounded look on the child's face, Brennan shrugged her shoulders. "Your Aunt Angela says it's a handicap I have to live with and so do you."

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Let me know what you think of my story. Thank you.


	5. Chapter 5

(Sometime In the future)

Thank you for reviewing my story. I appreciate it.

I don't own Bones.

Ooooooooooooooooooo

Christine was still fuming about her best friend ditching her for a boy at the mall when she exited her car and found her little brother pointing a toy gun at her. "What do you want Hank? Do you know you aren't supposed to point a gun at someone?"

With careful aim, Hank pulled on the trigger and yelled. "Bang, you're dead."

Not amused in the least, Christine shook her head. "You're eleven years old, Hank. Why don't you act like it?"

A little outraged with his sister, Hank started to protest. "Hey I shot you, so you're dead. You have to lie down on the ground now."

Her disbelief plain to see, Christine shook her head. "Are you insane? This is a new blouse. I'm not lying on the ground and get it dirty. Besides, you missed me."

His mouth sagged open momentarily and he stared at her in shock. "I didn't miss you. I'm like Dad. I can hit the eye of a fly if I want to. You're dead." Quickly, he aimed his toy pistol again and shouted once more, "Bang, bang."

Christine shook her head and laughed. "You're a terrible shot. You missed me again."

"I didn't miss." Hank stomped his foot. "You're dead."

Amused, the teenager shook her head and shifted the strap of her purse on her shoulder. "Well you're obviously a terrible shot since I'm not dead and I'm standing right here . . . undead." Chuckling, she walked past him towards the house. "It's embarrassing, Hank. Really embarrassing."

The boy watched his sister walk by him and frowned. "You used to play with me."

"I'm sixteen years old, Hank. I'm an adult now." Christine turned and shook her head. "I don't play games anymore."

After his sister entered the house, Hank put his toy gun in his holster and crossed his arms. "She's no fun anymore, darn it."

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Moping, Hank slouched down next to his father on the couch and sighed. Engrossed in the game, Booth hadn't heard the sigh the first time, but when the boy sighed harder he turned his attention towards his son. "What's wrong, Hank?"

"Chrissy won't play with me." Hank stared in sadness at his father. "She says she's an adult and she doesn't play games anymore."

He had known that the five year difference was probably going to be a problem, but he had hoped his daughter would at least try to get along with her little brother. "Well, that's too bad for her. I'm an adult and I still like to play games and so does your Mom. I play hockey and your Mom and me like to play board games and water games . . . anyway, adults play games . . . Do you want me to play with you?"

A smile now breaking out, Hank stood up. "Yes, Dad. Thank you. Can we play cowboys?"

"We sure can." Booth looked over at the island where Brennan was working on some notes for a speech she was going to give in a few weeks. "Hey Bones. Hank and I are going to play cowboys. Want to play with us?"

Surprised, Brennan looked up and saw the grin on her husband's face. "Yes, I think I would. Would you like to wear costumes while we play?"

"Well sure." Booth stood up. "I still have that jacket and hat from when we went undercover as Buck and Wanda. I know you still have your hat and that black dress. Hank can wear his hat and I think I have a vest he can use."

Excited, Hank jumped up and down. "Oh Boy, this is cool."

His hand on his son's shoulder, Booth nodded his head. "We can barbeque some hamburgers and tofu burgers while we're at it."

"Should we invite Christine to play with us?" Brennan had overheard Hank's conversation with his father and wanted to see what Booth wanted to do about it.

"Nah, she told Hank she doesn't play games anymore." Booth moved over to the island, ran his hand down her back towards her hips and chuckled. "She doesn't know what she's missing."

"Booth, behave." Brennan felt a shiver run down her spine. "Let's go get dressed and then decide what our games will consist of."

Oooooooooooooooooooooo

Booth had set up a sawhorse in the backyard and was showing his son how to throw a lasso. Brennan was busy setting up a board on two boxes. Her intention was to set up a bar and pretend to sell beer to her husband and son. The pitcher actually contained tea, but it was a game after all.

Whooping with glee, Hank clapped his hands when his father successfully roped the saw horse. "Oh Boy, now let me try."

Booth handed the rope with a noose on one end to his son and moved the boy closer to the sawhorse. "Okay Pardner, anytime you're ready."

Hank threw the noose and missed. Quickly moving the noose back into his hand, Hank laughed. "I'll try again." Moving a few inches closer, this time he was successful. "I did it."

Happy for his son, Booth patted him on the shoulder. "Way to go Hank."

Booth had already set up the barbeque grill and it was slowly cooking some hamburgers, vegetable kabobs, a steak and some corn on the cob. While that was cooking, Brennan finished setting up her bar and pounded her fists on the plank. "Step right up pardners. I have beer for sale."

Excited her boy ran over to the bar and slapped a penny down on top. "I'll have a beer."

Her teeth flashed in a quick smile, Brennan filled up a glass with tea and handed it to her small son. "Here you go."

Amused, Booth rummaged around in the cooler near the grill and pulled out a bottle of beer. Before he could open it, Brennan slapped the bar with the palm of her hand. "Booth . . . I mean Buck, you must buy my beer. That beer is for later when we eat dinner."

One eye closed and with the other aimed at his wife, Booth stared at her debating with himself. Finally giving in, he placed the bottle back in the cooler and walked over to the bar. "This better be good beer."

Brennan held out her hand. "You have to pay first, please."

After he handed over a nickel, Booth drank some of the tea, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and glared at Brennan. "Where's my change there barkeep? You trying to cheat me?"

Since she didn't have any change, Brennan shook her head. "It costs a nickel if you're over twelve years old."

Hank laughed and poked his father's ribs with his finger. "Ha, Dad I mean Buck. I can buy more beer than you can with a nickel."

His gaze menacing, Booth glared at the bartender. "That's highway robbery."

Brennan shrugged her shoulders. "Not really. It's my business. I can charge what I want to."

Rushing around the bar, Booth picked up Brennan on his shoulder and held her there. "Well I'm taking you to the hoosegow, you black hearted thief."

She shrieked with laughter and shouted at her husband. "Put me down, Buck."

Hank jumped up and down and laughed while his parents started fussing at each other.

The noise in the backyard too much to ignore, Christine opened the back door and watched her father place her mother down on the ground, turn and run from her towards the oak tree. "You have to catch me first." She heard him yell and her mother and brother started to chase Booth around the yard.

Christine was drawn to the fun they were having and wanted to play too. "What are you doing?"

Booth stopped and grabbed Brennan to prevent her from knocking him down. "We're playing cowboys. Do you want to play?"

Realizing that there was too much fun going on without her, Christine smiled and ran into the backyard. "Yes, I would."

Shocked, Hank turned to face his sister. "I thought you don't play anymore."

Christine shook her head, raced over to where her mother was standing, tagged her and raced away. "I guess I was wrong . . . You're it Mom."

Ooooooooooooooooooooooooo

A little something I thought of on a rainy day. Let me know what you think of my story. Thank you.


	6. Chapter 6

(In the Future)

Thank you for reviewing my story. I appreciate it.

I don't own Bones.

Ooooooooooooooooo

Hank was definitely bored and he wanted to do something about it, but there was an obstacle in his path and it was a big obstacle. "Mom I want to go outside and ride my bike."

Brennan looked up from the t-shirt she was folding and shook her head. "It's raining and quite chilly outside, Hank. Find something to do inside the house."

Frustrated, the boy crossed his arms against his chest and exhaled deeply. Since that didn't seem to get a response from her, he exhaled again.

"Are you having difficulty breathing?" Brennan was well aware that her son was trying to show his displeasure, but she preferred direct communication and not subtle body language.

"No Ma'am, I'm not." Hank climbed onto the stool next to the island and placed his chin in his hand. "Chrissy and Dad aren't here and I don't have anyone to play with."

As she continued to fold clothes, Brennan thought over her son's predicament and came up with several solutions to his problem. "I see. Well off the top of my head, you can go clean your room and once that is done you can read the books you brought back from the library yesterday. There is the unfinished model you begged your father to buy you a month ago. It's still not completed. There is also the robot kit you begged me to buy you two months ago that has never been taken out of the box . . ."

"I did clean my room." Hank thought it was unfair that his mother hadn't notice that. He'd even made his bed with hospital corners like she'd shown him. "I can't read my books yet, because I'm going to read them at night before I go to bed. The model is missing a piece and Dad wants to work on the robot with me and he's been busy, you know that." Certain he had shot down her arguments, he waited for her response.

"Unless the missing piece will affect the structural integrity of the model, you can complete the model." Brennan knew for a fact the missing piece was just a head light. Booth had complained about their son's reluctance to finish it because the boy was too fussy and wanted everything to be perfect. They'd had quite an intense argument about his complaint, but she knew that Booth grew quite frustrated with their son's perfectionism. The boy was twelve and Booth thought that Hank should learn to relax after all life isn't perfect and they both knew that. He was worried that the boy would grow up a dissatisfied man if things weren't perfect. "Hell Bones, when has anything ever been perfect for me or you? We both got a bad start in life and we still came out of it okay. If we'd let the bad shit get to us we'd have both turned into losers. He needs to let things go."

"Hank, I realize that you wanted the model to be completed, but you should just finish it." Brennan was a perfectionist herself, but she knew that sometimes you had to accept imperfection. "If you put all the parts together that you have, then technically it will be complete . . . Then you can come up with a story to go with the car to explain the missing headlight . . . Perhaps the car was being restored and a thief stole it . . . something like that. Or to amuse your father, Aliens stole the missing piece because their spaceship broke a headlight and they needed a replacement."

Hank thought that was very funny and sniggered. "That's funny, Mom . . . I know Dad wasn't happy with me because I didn't finish it . . . it's just . . . it's not very symmetrical with a missing headlight . . . Mom why am I like that? Chrissy isn't like that. She doesn't care if something isn't symmetrical and neither does Dad."

Brennan had always feared that her children would inherit some of her idiosyncrasies. Both of her children were quite intelligent and did very well in school. They had both inherited Booth's charming smile and his ability to make friends when he wanted to. On the other hand, they had also inherited Booth's temperament and Hank seemed to have Brennan's sense of orderliness and perfectionism. Perfectionism wasn't really a fault to Brennan, but she did know that it could make you unhappy if taken to extremes. "When I was younger, I believed that everything should be orderly. Everything in my kitchen cabinets were stored in alphabetical order. When I placed food in the refrigerator they were placed in a specific order on the shelves. If I had leftovers, I put them in containers and labeled them."

"Really?" Hank was surprised since that was not how the household he lived in was organized now.

Brennan smiled. "Yes, really . . . Once I started living with your father and I was exposed to his more chaotic system of storing things, I tried to be less rigid, but I did organize everything in the cabinets so that they more practical and functional. After I had children time became more precious. I realized that orderliness wasn't necessary. You must live your life and you shouldn't waste valuable time on perfectionism, especially since it has little meaning in the end. Both your father and I work strenuous jobs. We also try to make as much time as possible for you and Christine. It is much better to let a little chaos into your life and use what time you have wisely . . . Do you understand?"

"I think so." Hank still loved symmetry, but he saw her point of view too. "I'm going to go finish my model . . . and come up with a story about the missing piece."

Pleased that her conversation had gone well, Brennan started to fold clothes again. "I look forward to your presentation."

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Booth arrived home to find Brennan and Christine in the kitchen cooking dinner. "Hey you two. That leak at Hodgins place wasn't a big deal. I replaced the piece of pipe under the kitchen sink. I told him he didn't need to call a plumber and I was right."

After she replaced the lid on the pot on the stove, Brennan turned and kissed Booth who was waiting behind her. "I seem to remember that time we replaced some pipes in your kitchen and the pipes burst again."

"Well, that wasn't my fault." Booth reached around her and plucked a piece of celery from a cutting board. "Plus my brain was still messed up from my surgery and you didn't put enough glue in the joint."

"I didn't . . ." Brennan was outraged that Booth was blaming her for the waterfall in his kitchen when Hank ran into the kitchen holding his completed model. The Lamborghni Veneno was a beautiful replica even though there was a missing headlight.

"Dad, look I finished it." Hank carefully handed the model to his father, glanced at his mother and then back at his father. "As you can see the left headlight is missing. What happened, a mouse king named Fred has a car just like this model and he needed a headlight, but he's too cheap to pay for anything unless he has to, so he sent his techs out to look for one. They were supposed to steal it so they could get it for free and they looked around until they found one in my room and they took it so that's why the headlight is missing." Hank drew a deep breath and laughed. "Stupid old mouse king. He should have stolen the whole car so he'd have back up parts. So anyway it's finished."

Amazed with his son's story, Booth pursed his lips and stared at the completed model. "You know that makes complete sense. Good job Hank. You did a real good job. After dinner, would you like to work on that robot kit your mother bought you?"

"Oh boy, would I?" Hank jumped up and down. "Yes Sir, I would. I'll go get it and bring it out here." The boy took the model from his father and left the room, pleased that his father liked his work.

Once the boy was out of hearing, Booth smiled at Brennan and Christine. "That boy has a great imagination, Bones. Maybe we have a budding author on our hands. Like Mother like son?"

So proud of her children, Brennan placed her hand on Christine's shoulder. "Both of my children make me so proud."

"Thanks Mom." Christine had thought Hank's story was cute, but weird. "Did I tell you that Buddy had a flat tire bringing me home? He didn't know how to change it, so I did it for him."

Booth placed his arm around his daughter's shoulders. "Good for you. That Buddy is a knuckle head. At least my kids know how to take care of themselves."

Proud of her daughter, Brennan moved back and opened the oven door to check on the eggplant parmesan. "Of course they do, Booth. They are our children."

Oooooooooooooooooooo

Let me know what you think of my story. Thank you.


	7. Chapter 7

(In the future)

Thank you for reviewing my story. I appreciate it.

I really don't own Bones.

Ooooooooooooooooo

Hank spied his sister walking towards him and hunched his shoulders dreading her scorn when she found out what had happened earlier that afternoon.

Walking rapidly towards her little brother, Christine couldn't help but notice Hank's stooped shoulders and the look of fear on his face. Once she was close enough, she placed her right hand on his shoulder and squeezed it a little. "What's your problem? Did you get suspension again? Mom and Dad are going to go ballistic if . . ."

"No, I didn't." Hank shrugged off her hand and stepped around her. "Can we just go home now?"

Not sure what was going on, Christine turned and grabbed her brother's arm. "Whoa, obviously something is going on and I want to know what it is."

Embarrassed and angry at the same time, Hank turned to face his sister. "Mom is going to be so mad at me . . . It's not my fault Chrissy, I swear it isn't."

Being five years older than her brother, Christine sometimes felt like a second mother to her little brother. "What isn't your fault?"

His hand trembling, Hank pointed at an older boy talking to two other boys in the school yard. "Brad Menard took Grampa Max's wallet from me. He saw me buy a coke and I was holding the wallet in my hand in the vending machine room and he said I probably stole it since eight year old kids don't have money so they don't need wallets."

Furious, Christine slipped off her book bag and shoved it in to her brother's arms. "We'll see about that." Quickly marching over to where Brad stood, the girl placed her hand on the boy's shoulder and pulled him around to face her. "Give it back."

"Give what back?" Brad sneered at the girl and glanced at his friends. "Touch me again and I may just give you a spanking."

Her face suddenly cool and emotionless, Christine jabbed the boy in the chest. "You and what army ace? I've got a purple belt in karate. You try to spank me and you just might find out what it's like to eat someone's fist."

"Ooh, I'm shaking. A purple belt." Brad laughed. "Listen little girl, walk away while you can."

Christine smiled and poked the boy in the chest once more. "Give me my brother's wallet . . . now."

His pride on the line, Brad puffed up his chest and pointed at Hank. "No little kid carries around a wallet. He stole it and I'm keeping it to teach him a lesson."

One of Brad's friends, Jason Mires lived next door to Christine Booth and he knew that Brad was making a big mistake. "Brad, if you have Hank's wallet you better give it back. His father is Agent Booth. He's an Assistant Deputy Director with the FBI and my Dad says he's some tough shit."

Doubt suddenly entering his mind, Brad turned his head to look at his friend. "So what, my Dad is Assistant Deputy Director at Homeland Security. He can't do anything to me."

Jason was getting a little frustrated with his friend's arrogance and he noticed that Christine was giving his friend a murderous look. "Don't you remember that time we had that nut walk into the school last year and threatened to kill Mr. Moore and some of his class because Mr. Moore gave Mr. Dyer's son a failing grade? Agent Booth was the one that arrested Mr. Dyer . . . broke his arm arresting him . . . do not mess with his kids okay? Just give Christine back the wallet. If Hank has one it's probably because his mother writes books and Dad says she's rich."

Brad remembered Agent Booth really well and he hadn't realized that Hank and Christine were his children. Not really certain how to save the situation, Brad pulled the wallet from his jacket pocket and threw it on the ground. "Here's your wallet. I am going to report you to the principal. I still think the kid stole it." His body stiff, Brad pushed his friend Jason aside and walked away.

Embarrassed and worried about what Christine was going to tell her father, Jason gave her a sick smile. "Christine just take the wallet and walk away. Brad is an idiot and he thinks he's a super cop or something because his dad is in Homeland Security. Just . . . I had nothing to do with him taking Hank's wallet. I didn't even know he'd taken it from him."

Actually relieved that Brad had given up the wallet, Christine smiled, squatted and picked up the wallet. "This wallet belonged to my mother's father. She would be really upset if she found out someone had stolen it from Hank."

Jason knew that his neighbors were important people in the community and he knew he'd have to talk to Brad about verifying things before going off half-cocked on other people. "Sure she would, but you have it back now. I'll talk to Brad."

Done with the conversation, Christine turned, gave the wallet to her brother and took her book bag back from the boy. "Come on, Hank, we have to go home."

Glad to get his wallet back, Hank dusted it off, checked to make sure his five dollars were still in the fold and placed the wallet in his back pack. "Thanks Chrissy. Mom would have been upset if I'd lost it."

Ooooooooooooooooooooooo

That evening, Hank waited until dinner was being be prepared by his parents, sat down at the island next to the kitchen and folded his hands on the counter. "Dad, do you have an old wallet I can use?"

Surprised at the request, Brennan placed the paring knife and onion she was holding down on the cutting board and turned to stare at her son. "Where is the wallet I gave you last week?"

He had known his mother was going to be suspicious, so he was ready for her. Slowly, he pulled the wallet from his pants pocket and held it up. "It's right here. I just think since its Grandpa Max's wallet, I shouldn't use it right now. I'm just a little kid and I could lose it."

Christine entered the kitchen to retrieve some dishes and flat wear to set on the table, glanced at Hank and gave him a guarded thumbs up.

Booth thought about it and pointed down the hallway. "I have an old wallet in the top right-hand side of my dresser. It's sitting on a couple of belts. If you want it you can have it."

"Thanks Dad." Hank slid off the stool and raced down the hallway. As his sister set the table the phone rang and Booth answered it. "Booth . . . a stolen wallet? Listen Mr. Vader, my kids don't steal. My son owns a wallet, it's his grandfather's . . . I told you he owns a wallet . . . I advise you to tell whoever told you that lie that he's walking on thin ice . . . I don't give a shit who his father is . . . You called me and accused my son of stealing. I told you he owns a wallet and that should be the end of it . . . my daughter did what? Zero tolerance huh? Well I'm sure she threatened him for a reason. Did you ask the kid why Christine threatened him? . . . Bullshit, he was obviously trying to snow you just like he did about the wallet . . . Does your zero tolerance include children falsely accusing other kids of stealing and principals that don't get their facts straight before calling parents and accusing their kids of stealing or being a bully? Since you're impressed with that kids father then maybe you should find out who I am or who my wife is . . . Listen you prick my wife and I pay a lot of money to have our kids go that private school of yours and that's how you treat my kids or me? . . . yeah? I'll be in to see you tomorrow morning . . . no threat . . . no, I'm withdrawing my kids from your damn school that's why I'll be there. You can kiss my ass and our money goodbye and I'll make sure my friends and co-workers know what a shit show you're running . . . your apology is not accepted." Booth ended the call and turned to look at his daughter. "Christine."

Quickly placing the forks down on the table, Christine held up her hands in a placating manner and faced her father. "Dad, Brad took Hank's wallet from him and accused him of stealing it. I tried to make him give it back, but I never hit him or anything. I just demanded he give it back. I told him about my purple belt, but that was because I wanted to warn him before he hit me. The guy threatened to spank me. I was prepared to protect myself. I poked him a couple of times in the chest, that's all. Jason told him to give the wallet to me and Brad threw it on the ground and that's all there is to it."

"Christine, why didn't you tell us about this when we came home." Brennan was very annoyed that her son had been accused of being a thief, but even more upset that some child had tried to steal his wallet from her son and her daughter had been threatened. A spanking? That was just uncalled for. "While I don't agree that violence settles anything, you do have a right to defend yourself and you have a right to defend your brother." Brennan sighed and turned her attention towards her husband. "Booth, perhaps you're being hasty about wanting to withdraw Hank and Christine from the school. Perhaps if the boy that stole Hank's wallet and threatened Christine is punished that will be enough."

His eyes flashing in anger, Booth placed his hands on the counter and shook his head. "That school advertises as being the best, but its bullshit. Their security sucks, remember when Philip Dyer threatened to kill a teacher and held him hostage along with some kids? Now some kid steals from Hank and instead of the principal looking into it, he take the word of a damn bully and thief and treats my kid like a criminal. Also no one threatens to spank my daughter. No one. That entire school can kiss my ass. You told me when Christine was five that schools were my responsibility and I'm telling you our kids are not going back to that school. Hodgins has been trying to talk me into checking out the school Michael Vincent goes to and that's what I'm going to do tomorrow after I take the kids to school and empty out their lockers."

"Alright." Brennan knew when to give in and now was the time to do it. Booth did have a point though. To accuse her son of being a thief was a step too far and to have a bully threaten to spank her daughter, well, it was probably a good thing she hadn't answered the phone. "I did say you have the final word about schools. I must remind you that this is the second school we're going to be withdrawing our children from. We may run out of school if this continues . . . I will go with you tomorrow when you withdraw the children from their school. I have a few things I wish to say to the principal."

That sounded rather ominous and Booth liked it. There was no show on this earth greater than when his wife wanted to 'talk' to someone. "Great, we'll talk to him together."

Hank raced back into the kitchen and held up Booth's old wallet. "I found it."

"Hank, you and Christine will no longer be going to that school of yours." Booth placed his hands on his hips. "Your principal called me about your wallet. You and your sister aren't going back there except to get your stuff out of your lockers. Your mother and I are going to see about enrolling you into Michael Vincent's school."

Stunned the boy turned to stare at his sister. "Wow."

Resigned to the coming changes, Christine shrugged her shoulders. "Yeah, wow."

Oooooooooooooooooooo

Let me know what you think of my story. Thank you so much.


	8. Chapter 8

(In the future)

A/N: I had a lot of requests for a sequel to chapter 7. I hope this is what you wanted.

Thank you for reviewing my story. I really appreciate it.

I don't own Bones.

Ooooooooooooooooooooo

The drive to the school was a silent one. The children sat on the back passenger seat and thought about the friends they were going to miss once they left the school. Booth was in a bad mood and was trying to control his temper before he got to the school. The last thing he wanted to do was to show his temper in front of his children. Brennan was busy trying to mentally arrange her schedule for the day since she still wanted to go to work for at least part of the day.

Once Booth was parked in front of the school, Booth silently opened the door of his truck and watched his family exit the truck. So far no one had spoken a word and Brennan found that odd. "Everyone is silent."

Booth locked the door and walked around the SUV to join his family. "I think we're all just in a serious mood right now. It's okay."

Her gaze moving towards her children, Brennan noticed Christine fiddling with her watch while Hank stared at the entrance to the school. "It is a solemn occasion. Perhaps we can go to the Pasta Bowl for dinner tonight."

Since he loved the Pasta Bowl, Booth was quick to agree. "Good idea. We'll do that." As he turned to walk over to the entrance, Booth placed his hand on Hank's shoulder and adjusted his stride so the boy wouldn't have to hurry to keep up. "Hank, don't worry about this stuff. None of it is your fault. Besides think about the fun you'll have at the new school. You'll get to see Michael Vincent and Jeffrey all the time instead of just on the weekends. Hodgins says that Jeffrey is excited that you and Christine are going to be going to his school."

Hank nodded his head and tried to smile, but failed. "I'm going to miss my friends here."

"I know kiddo, but it doesn't have to be good-bye." Booth knew what it was like to move to a new school. He had done it several times when he was growing up and he'd turned out all right hadn't he? "You can invite them over on the weekends if you want to and you'll be making new friends at the new school."

"I can?" Hank had assumed that he would never be allowed to see his friends again.

Booth squeezed the boy's shoulder. "Of course you can."

As they entered the school, they were met by a security guard who stopped them just inside the door. "Seeley Booth? I was told to escort you to the Principal's office."

Unable to hide it, Booth gave the man a smirk. "Oh, of course. I guess Principal Vader is the gutless wonder I thought he was."

Shrugging his shoulder, Ben frowned. "I'm just doing what I was told, Mr. Booth."

"Assistant Deputy Director of the FBI Seeley Booth." Booth wanted that straight. He wasn't going to be treated like a criminal and he wanted the guard to know who he was dealing with.

"I remember sir." Ben thought the Principal was acting like an idiot, but he worked for the school board. "You saved Mr. Moore from Mr. Dyer last year. I was here when you and your team arrested Dyer. Thank you."

He appreciated the recognition and the thank you. "I was just doing my job, but you're welcome."

The guard smiled as he escorted the family to the office. "My nephew was in that class . . . He still talks about what you did and he says he wants to be an FBI Agent someday."

Booth was very flattered. "It's a great organization." Curious why Brennan wasn't saying anything, Booth glanced at his wife and noticed that she was smiling at him. He returned her smile and winked at her. "Most of the time."

"Now." Brennan still had reservations about the FBI. She had never completely forgiven them for betraying her husband and her. She worked with the FBI, but she didn't trust them like she used to. "I find it odd that Principal Vader doesn't seem to remember your role in saving Mr. Moore and his class from harm."

As they arrived at the door to the Principal's Office, Ben turned to face Brennan. "Dr. Brennan, he wasn't here that day. He was at the dentist having his teeth cleaned or some such bullshit . . . his car was here when the ruckus started, but he said he had left before Dyer came on campus." The guard was pretty sure that Vader had lied to cover up running away when the situation had become serious.

Surprised the guard had called her by her name, Brennan frowned at the guard. "You know who I am?"

"You kidding me? Of course I do." Ben loved to read and Brennan's books were his favorite. "I'm a big fan. Your last book was brilliant. The way Kathy discovered that the killer was really an identical twin and that he was setting his brother up for all of those murders . . . genius, pure genius."

"Thank you, it was good." Brennan had won an Edgar Award for that novel which she was very proud of. "It was well received and was on the New York Best Seller List for thirty-two weeks."

Impatient to get his kids out of the school, Booth opened the door. "Yeah, it was great. Let's go see Vader." As he entered the room, everyone else followed Booth into the outer office. "Hey, I'm here to withdraw my kids from this school . . . Hank and Christine Booth . . . I told Vader last night and you should have the paper work ready for us."

Affronted by Booth's lack of respect, June stood up and walked over the counter. "Principal Vader is in his office. I will let him know you're here."

"You do that." Booth pointed at some chairs along the wall and smiled at his children who took his cue and sat down. Brennan stood by Booth and waited for the Principal to make an appearance while Booth leaned on the counter, a look of anticipation on his face. Ben stood near the door. He wasn't about to leave and miss the fun. He had reminded Principal Vader earlier that morning who Booth was and he had loved the fact that Vader had turned pale as a sheet. _The little shit._

The door along the back wall opened and Principal Vader entered the room. He had not been looking forward to this meeting and now that he knew what Booth's position was at the FBI, he was a very worried man. "Agent Booth . . ."

"Assistant Deputy Director of the FBI Booth." Brennan had quickly corrected the man. She was not about to tolerate disrespect aimed towards her husband.

Nervously clearing his throat, Vader nodded his head as he approached the counter. "Yes . . . yes, I do know that. I meant no disrespect of course."

"There is no of course about it." Brennan wasn't having any of it. "If you know who he is then why call him by a lower rank?"

He had recognized her as soon as he had entered the outer office and wondered why he hadn't know that the Booth kids were actually important clients. He had had a firm talk with his assistant and the security guard, but what was done was done. "Yes, of course, I misspoke."

"As the leader of this school, shouldn't you make sure you know what you are talking about before you speak?" Brennan was not impressed with the man and she was now glad that her husband had insisted they withdraw their children from the school. "It is no wonder you take the side of a child that prevaricates and threatens to spank female students."

"I . . ." Vader shook his head. He hadn't know that Brad had threatened to spank the Booth girl.

Brennan was just warming up." I what? You are in charge of this school and you should be leading in a cogent and fair manner. Instead you take the word of a child over my children because the boy's father is the Assistant Deputy Director of Homeland Security." Brennan sniffed her disdain. "My husband helped bring down the traitor Glen Durant. Perhaps you heard of it? With my help we uncovered a plot by the treasonous Durant and saved this country. My husband is a hero . . . You clearly are ill informed and not worthy of the leadership at this school."

"Now wait a minute . . ." Vader was outraged. How was he supposed to know everyone that sent their kids to his school? He . . .

"No I don't think so." Brennan turned to look at the office supervisor. "I wish to complete the forms to withdraw Christine and Hank from this school. This school does not represent the best in teaching nor leadership in teaching and my children will not stay here another minute." Brennan turned back to glare at the Principal. "Your lack of principles, your ineffectual leadership, your inability to research problems, your obvious sycophancy towards those you think are important at the risk to children and parents you think are less exalted proves that you are not worthy of your position."

Booth had listened and enjoyed his wife's tirade, but he really needed to get his kids over to the new school. Pulling the forms over so he could sign them as June placed them on the counter, Booth quickly read the forms and saw it was just a generic withdrawal form. "Come on Bones. Just sign the form and let's go. I think he's emasculated enough."

Taking the form from her husband, Brennan signed it and placed it back on the counter. "We wish a copy now."

In a hurry to get rid of Brennan and Booth, June hurried over to the copier, made a copy and handed it to Brennan.

Satisfied, Brennan handed the copy to Booth. "Children, we will go empty your lockers and leave now." While she marched over to the door with their children, Booth stood up straight and before he followed his family out the door, he looked the principal over. "It's a good thing my wife isn't in a bad mood, Sport. Your ass would be grass right now if she had been really pissed off."

Numb from the dressing down, Vader nodded his head. He was glad they were leaving, but he was worried about insulting someone in Booth's position. "This was all a misunderstanding."

Since his family was out in the hallway, Booth sneered at the man and shook his head. "Misunderstanding my ass. Good luck with your school. I wouldn't count on FBI Director Decker's daughter attending much longer. I explained what was going on here to him last night, you little shit." Satisfied that the man appeared to finally realize that more was to come from the fallout, Booth left the room and joined his family in the hallway along with Ben. "Okay, let's get those lockers empty. We have to get over to the new school this morning and get you two settled in."

Christine stared at her mother and shook her head. "Wow Mom, you were awesome."

Booth placed his arm around his wife's shoulders. "Ha she's always been awesome. Your brother Parker recognized her awesomeness a long time ago."

A slight blush on her cheeks, Brennan placed her arm around her husband's waist as they walked down the hallway. "Parker is a very observant and clever child."

Booth laughed. He loved the fact that she knew her own self-worth. "Well he is my son."

Ooooooooooooooooooo

Let me know what you think of my story. Thank you.


	9. Chapter 9

(In the future)

Thank you for reviewing my story. I appreciate it.

I don't own Bones.

Ooooooooooooooooooo

"Oh my God Mom." Christine stood up and carried her tablet over to the kitchen island where Brennan was folding clothes. "I found it. It's just like Page's. I knew if I looked long enough I'd find it."

Her daughter's excitement intrigued Brennan, so she took the tablet from her daughter and looked at the display. "A ring?"

"Mom no, not a ring." Christine knew that her mother didn't keep up with current social trends so she was prepared to explain. "It's a belly ring. Don't you remember I told you two weeks ago about Page's belly ring? I want one just like it and I finally found one."

Alarmed, Brennan shook her head. "Belly ring? You want to pierce your umbilicus? Why?"

"Mom come on, all my friends have one. I'm the only one that doesn't have one." Christine was determined to make her mother see what a pariah she was becoming amongst her friends. "They're starting to think there's something wrong with me. I told them I wanted one like Page, but everyone seems to think I'm chicken. Now I can buy the one I really want and have it put in soon."

Booth had just entered the kitchen to retrieve a bottle of water from the fridge and was appalled to hear Christine's plans. "Whoa, back the hell up. You're a minor and you do not have my permission to put a hole in your navel or anywhere else in your body. No way."

"For goodness sake Dad, I have earrings in my ears what's the difference?" Christine felt it was a burden to have such an old fashioned father sometimes. "It's a tasteful belly ring. It's not gawky or anything."

Not impressed, Booth shook his head. "No, you're not getting one and that's final. You're seventeen and legally a minor. If you want to mutilate your body then you'll have to wait until your eighteen to do it."

"Mom!' Christine knew that if she got her mother on her side, her father would cave in. "Mom, it's just a belly ring for goodness sake. You let me have my ears pierced when I was fourteen. This isn't any different than that."

Brennan thought about it and shrugged her shoulders. "Booth remember that case we had the first year we worked together? The mummy in the wall?"

Not sure where she was going with the conversation, Booth decided to follow along and see where she took him. "Yeah, how could I forget? It's not every day you see a mummy in the wall of a night club."

Confused at the turn in the conversation, Christine sat down on one of the stools next to the island and waited. Interrupting her mother when she started telling a story never ended well for her anyway. It just made the story longer and more torturous.

"Yes, well remember the piece of flesh we found in the wall near the mummy." Brennan had a point and she was coming to it fast. "The piece of flesh with the belly ring in it. The ring had a diamond embedded in it I believe."

His thoughts going back to the case, Booth scrunched his nose. "God yes that was awful. The second victim was trying to get away from the murderer and she squeezed by some pipes and her belly ring caught on something and it ripped the belly ring right out of her navel along with skin . . . God that was so gross. You know that had to hurt like hell. It was a big chunk of her skin and that ring . . . damn I still want to throw up every time I think about it. "

"Actually that still makes me nauseous when I think about it too." Brennan swallowed and tried to forget the small piece of flesh attached to the belly ring. "I'm sorry I brought it up."

Glumly, Christine closed the tablet and stood up. "I suppose this means you're both against the belly ring. I never get to do anything around here. I might as well study to become a nun."

"Well, if that's what you want to do, we can go see Father Guidry this weekend." Booth knew his daughter was being melodramatic and two could play that game. "We've never had a nun in the family, so you'd be the first. Pops would be so proud if he was alive."

Brennan wasn't sure if Christine was being serious or not, but the quick wink that her husband had given her told her that Booth wasn't being serious at all. "If you wish to dedicate your life to your religion I suppose I could support you, but I was certain that you were more interested in the sciences. Perhaps you could be a nun and be a zoologist at the same time. I wouldn't think they would be mutually exclusive, but Father Guidry should be able to answer that question for us."

"Why do I even bother?' Christine grabbed her tablet and left the room. "My parents are so old."

While their child marched down the hallway in a huff, Booth moved closer to his wife, leaned over and kissed her. "Hm, do you feel old because I don't feel old?"

"No not all." Brennan placed her hands on Booth's hips and admired the firm flesh under her hands. "You seem to have aged very well for someone who is fifty eight years old."

Booth kissed Brennan once more and pulled her against his body. "Um, well, you've really aged well yourself. You're more beautiful than ever."

"Why thank you." Brennan ran her hands behind Booth's back and cupped his butt. "Are we being too old fashioned about the belly ring?"

"No." Booth wasn't changing his mind about the ring. "The thought of that ring being yanked out for whatever reason . . . just no, no no."

Her mind flashing back to the piece of desiccated flesh with the embedded ring made Brennan swallow in distaste. "Well, if you insist, I will back you up. She can wait until she's eighteen if she wants a belly ring. We won't be able to stop her then."

Releasing Brennan, Booth leaned against the counter. "I told you it was a bad idea to let the kids grow up."

Amused, Brennan tried to finish folding clothes. "Well, I didn't know a way to stop it short of them dying and that wasn't an option."

"No, I guess not." Booth loved that Brennan could still be so literal. She didn't have a sense of whimsy, but that was okay. He loved her literalness. "Well, you do know she's going to act like a martyr for weeks about this."

"I know." Brennan had grown use to the drama of having teenagers in her life. "It will last until her next grand idea is thwarted, but that is okay. I find having a teenager in the house to be very entertaining. "

Oooooooooooooooooooo

Any good?


	10. Chapter 10

(In the Future)

Thank you for reviewing my story. I appreciate it.

I really don't own Bones.

Ooooooooooooooooooo

Flipping through the photo album, Christine found a folded sheet of paper and opened it. The paper used to have bright red colored lettering on a white background, but now the letters were faded with time and the paper was slightly crinkled. The fold had weakened the piece of paper and she knew too much man handling would cause it to tear in the middle.

 _Bingham's Circus_

 _Firecracker Suzy and Cannonball Joe_

 _Boris and Natasha and their Russian knives of death_

 _The Flying Zordans_

Puzzled why the circus flyer was in the photo album, Christine closed the album and went in search of her mother. Finding Brennan outside sitting on the patio grading some student papers, the teenager plopped down next to her mother and held out the paper. "I was looking through one of the photo albums and found this. Did you and Dad go to the circus? I thought Dad didn't like the circus."

The paper old and worn, Brennan took it from her daughter and read the flyer. It had been a long time since she'd seen it and it brought back fond memories of much younger days. "Your father and I went undercover in this particular circus to see if we could determine who had killed con-joined twins and left their bodies on a rather desolate piece of land. Both Texas and Oklahoma claimed that particular section of land and we thought we might have jurisdictional problems, but they relinquished the case to the FBI after we talked to the Sheriffs of the adjoining counties.

"Oh wow, that is so cool." Christine had always thought her parents' jobs were cool. Looking for murderers and bringing villains to justice. It was so heroic and she was proud that her parents were well respected in their fields and so well known. "So how did you go undercover? What did you do while you were undercover?"

Fondly thinking back to that interesting time in her life Brennan smiled and handed the flyer back to her daughter. "Do you see the line 'Boris and Natasha and their Russian knives of death'?"

"No . . . really?" Christine wanted to scream she was so excited. "Dad was Boris and you were Natasha? What were the knives of death?"

Brennan placed her hand on the side of her daughter's face and stared into her bright blue eyes. "I stood in front of a target and your father threw knives at me hitting balloons and a fake nose . . . oh and I held a fake apple above my head . . . he was good and he hit his target every time. It was quite exhilarating. Your father was very handsome with his fake mustache and his knives were quite sharp."

Stunned, Christine stared at her mother in disbelief. "You let Dad throw knives at you? Oh my God. I would never let anyone throw knives anywhere near me. I'd break their hand if they even tried."

"Rightfully so, but remember we were undercover and I had complete trust in Booth's knife throwing ability." Brennan felt her heart rate increase just thinking about it. "He learned how to throw knives in the Army. You know he was one of their best snipers and that carried over in the other weapons that he used. Booth was an exceptional warrior."

Seeing her father in a new light, Christine smiled and stared at the flyer. "Gosh this is so cool. I didn't know you guys went undercover though. Did you do it again or only this one time?"

"Oh we went undercover several times." Brennan loved going undercover since it allowed her to pretend to be someone she wasn't and she was quite good at it. "Your father always said I was very good at role playing and so was he really." Brennan returned her attention back to the papers resting on her lap. "Make sure to place the flyer back in the photo album. Your father would be upset if you lost it. He is very sentimental and has collected various souvenirs over the years from concerts he's gone to, undercover jobs, dates we've been on. I think there is a box of his souvenirs in his closet in the bedroom. Don't go looking for it though. You know he hates it when anyone touches his things without permission. He's very territorial."

"I won't, but I may ask him if I can look in the box sometime." Christine was curious what her father had collected over the years and it just seemed so exciting that her parents had gone undercover during their careers. It was so 'James Bond'. "Mom? . . . Why don't you go undercover anymore?"

Her thoughts on the last time she had gone undercover, Brennan lost her smile and suddenly she felt sad. "The last case your father and I went on undercover was right after your grandfather Max died. It was a sad time for me and your father and I'm afraid I didn't enjoy it very much. I liked that we caught the murderer we were looking for, but I really hated going undercover at that time and I haven't done it since. I don't think your father enjoyed it either. There comes a time when you have to give up certain things in your life and undercover work was something we didn't need to do anymore . . . It was fun until it wasn't."

Christine remembered when her grandfather had died considering she had been in the safe house when he had been attacked there and badly injured. He had died in the hospital afterward and she always regretted not seeing him before he died. The old man had saved her life along with her baby brother and she always said a special prayer for him every Sunday at church. Max was a hero and Christine would always remember that. "I was so sad when Grandpa died . . . He was so brave just like you and Dad."

"He was very brave." Brennan had come to grips a long time ago that her father had died the way he wanted to, fighting to protect his family. "Now I have papers to grade."

Christine took the hint, stood up and left her mother in solitude on the patio. Careful with the old piece of paper, she placed it back in the photo album and held the album against her chest. Her family was one she was so proud of and she hoped that someday, if she was tested like her parents had been, she would be as brave as they were.

Ooooooooooooooooo

Let me know what you think of my story. Thank you.


	11. Chapter 11

( Sometime in the future )

A/N: I had a few requests for a story that covered the first time Booth pulled his kids from a school. I hope you like it. Remember these stories aren't being told in chronological order.

I don't own Bones.

Oooooooooooooooooo

Booth entered the Principal's office and spotted his son sitting on a chair near the counter, his cheeks wet from spilled tears. "Hank are you okay?"

A little confused as to why he wasn't in class, Hank shrugged his shoulders and slowly stood up. "I think so Daddy. The teacher brought me here and told me I had to wait for you or Mommy to come, but I don't know why. I promise I didn't do anything wrong."

Confused himself, Booth took Hank's hand in his hand and walked closer to the counter to talk to the assistant. "I was called to come down to the school about my son Hank Booth. I want to know what's going on and why he's sitting out here crying."

"Mr. Booth, the principal asked to speak to you. She's on the phone, but she should be available shortly."

"It's FBI Assistant Deputy Director Booth and I don't have time to waste." Booth glanced at his watch. "If she's not out here in five minutes I'm leaving and I'm taking Hank with me. You asked me to come here, I didn't ask for any meetings."

The menacing tone sent a chill through the young woman and she felt that the principal should take care of the situation. Quickly knocking on the inner office door of her supervisor, the assistant opened the door, disappeared inside then quickly reappeared. "She's available now."

A quick glance at his watch, Booth shook his head, walked around the counter and over to the Principal's office, Hank following him. Once they were in the room, Booth stood staring at the principal. "Dr. Hanes, you called me and I'm here. In case you don't remember me, FBI Assistant Deputy Director Booth."

Used to parents showing up in a bad or angry mood, Principal Hanes pointed towards the chair in front of her desk. "Would you take a chair, Mr. Booth?"

"Agent Booth and I'm fine." Booth stared at the principal and decided that Dr. Hanes was going to be her usual prick of a self. "Why am I here? What has Hank done this time?"

Since she didn't want to give Booth an advantage, Dr. Hanes stood up and pointed at the young boy. "Hank brought an inappropriate object to Show and Tell today." Turning, she removed a cloth covering an object sitting on the credenza behind her and placed it on her desk. "As you can see it is very inappropriate. We do not allow pornographic images in this building. We have very young children here. I'm surprised you have something like this in your house. You do have two young children."

His eyes glitterering with dislike, Booth shook his head. "That is a 500 year old statue of an Inca fertility god. I don't remember his name, but it sure as hell isn't pornographic. And for your information, we keep that on a shelf in our bedroom." Pausing he looked at it and frowned. "Where's the front part of him?"

Her dislike for Booth just as great as his for her, Dr. Hanes sniffed. "You may not consider it pornography, but I do and Hank shouldn't have brought it to school . . . as for his appendage, there was an unfortunate accident and Ms. Schell broke it off when she took it away from Hank."

"Look, this is a school and Hank was told to bring something that was old or historical from home for show in tell." The statue was going to be the source of tension between his wife and himself and Booth knew that there was no way around it. "I thought he was going to bring some of his great-grandfather's medals, but I guess he wanted to bring something really old."

"I wanted to bring something super old, Daddy." Hank stared at the broken statue and he knew his mother was going to be furious with him. "I didn't break it, Daddy. Ms. Schell did while she yelled at me and told me I was a nasty boy."

Placing his hand on his son's head, Booth shook his head. "Hank you're not nasty and Ms. Schell had no right to say that, but you should have brought the medals. You know Mommy doesn't like you to touch her antiques. That statue is over 500 years old. Now he's broke. You have to leave Mommy's stuff alone."

"Mr. Booth . . ." Dr. Hanes was a busy woman and this was taking too much of her valuable time.

"Agent Booth." Booth held open his credentials. "Would you like me to call you Mrs. Hanes?"

Irritated, the principal shook her head. "Agent Booth, Hank is going to be suspended for two days for bringing inappropriate material to school. We will not tolerate having pornography in this school."

A rather menacing smile on his face, Booth moved over to where the statue sat and picked it up along with the broken appendage. "This statue is over 500 years old and I'm pretty sure my wife will be contacting you sometime today as well as Hank's teacher. As for Hank being suspended, well that's your option. He brought a historical statue to school per his teacher's request. This is not pornography and you damn well know it or at least you should. If you don't understand the difference then why are you in education?"

Sniffing, Dr. Hanes glowered at Booth. "I have young children to protect. The age of an object doesn't preclude it from being pornographic. My decision is final. Hank may come back to school on Friday."

"Come on Hank." Booth guided his son from the room and once they were in the hallway, Booth squatted down and hugged his weeping son. "Hank, you did something wrong, but there's no need to cry about it. Let's go to your room and collect your stuff."

Hugging his father, Hank chocked out. "Mommy is going to be so mad at me."

Sad for his son, Booth picked him up and hugged him. "Don't cry, Hank. Mommy isn't going to be happy with her broken statue, but she won't be angry with you. Dr. Hanes and Ms. Schell are probably going to get an earful from Mommy though." Placing the boy on the floor, he patted his shoulder. "Okay, let's go get your stuff."

Once he was in his classroom, Hank walked over to the closet in the back and grabbed his backpack. He then walked over to his desk and placed everything on the desk in his bookbag while his classmates and his teacher watched. Once he was done, he walked back to the front of the classroom and said goodbye.

Ms. Schell, wary of Hank's father, scowled at the boy, but didn't go near him. "I'll see you Friday. Maybe the next time you will behave appropriately."

Clearing his throat, Booth drew the teacher's attention back to him. "Hank won't be back. Calling my boy nasty in front of his friends was wrong and you know it. My wife, Dr. Temperance Brennan will probably be calling you today or tomorrow." Holding up the statue, Booth smiled. "This statue is over 500 years old and is registered with the Jeffersonian Institute as an antiquity. I hope you have a good lawyer."

The blood rushing from her face, Ms. Schell stammered at the Agent. "I . . . it was an accident . . . Hank shouldn't have brought it to school. It's . . . it's bad . . ."

"It's historical and it's very valuable." Booth shook his head. "You should have just told Hank to place it back in his book bag. You are a teacher for God's sake. You really need to learn the difference between pornography and historical treasures. You and Principal Hanes." Taking his son's hand, Booth left the room and left a very nervous teacher behind.

Once they were in the hallway, Booth looked up and down the hallway. "Which way to Christine's room?"

Pointing down the hallway, Hank sniffed. "Are we really leaving school? I'm sorry for being bad."

"Hank, you weren't bad. You just did something a little bit naughty." As he moved down the hallway, Booth realized that he was going to have to take a couple of days off to register his children at a new school. He thought the academy that Daisy's son went to might be good enough, but he needed to talk to her first. "Please don't touch Mommy's statues and other stuff without her permission. She's not going to be happy about the broken bit, but you didn't break it, so don't worry about it . . . I can't let you and your sister stay in a school that treats historical stuff like trash and I won't allow anyone to call you names not even adults . . . Your mother would have my hide on a wall, if I didn't pull you from here. You know she's all about history and bones and the truth and stuff . . . still, don't touch Mommy's old stuff anymore, okay?"

"Okay." Hank pointed at his sister's room and sighed. "Chrissy studied for a big test today. She's going to be mad at me if she doesn't get to take the test."

Booth knocked on the classroom door and opened it. Moving over to the teacher sitting at his desk, Booth leaned over and said quietly. "I'm here to withdraw my daughter from this school." Waving at his daughter, Booth spoke louder. "Christine, get all of your stuff. You're no longer going to this school."

Shocked, Christine gathered her things, placed them in her bookbag and glanced around the room. Once she had waved to some of her friends, she moved over to where her father was standing. "Why Dad?"

Booth leaned over, showed the statue to his daughter and stage whispered. "Ms. Schell broke this. Your mother is going to raise hell about it and I'd rather withdraw you and Hank from this school before Mommy talks to Ms. Schell and Dr. Hanes."

Wisely, Christine nodded her head. "Oh boy."

"Yeah, oh boy." His children following him out of the room, Booth spoke loud enough for both of them to hear him. "New rule, anyone touches Mommy's stuff without her permission loses a month's allowance. No exceptions."

Oooooooooooooooooo

Holding the two pieces of her fertility god statue in her hands. Brennan sighed. "I guess you got your wish."

Startled, Booth shook his head. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You did tell me once that we should cut the penis off." Brennan held up the appendage. "The statue is really exquisite and now it is heavily damaged. Ms. Schell apologized profusely, but of course I had to tell her it's value and then she cried. She was under the impression I was going to sue her . . . why would she think that?"

Honesty the best policy when it came to dealing with his wife, Booth sat down on the bed and crossed his legs. "I told her you might. I was angry . . . she called Hank a nasty boy for bringing the statue to Show and Tell."

"Oh well in that case, even though your threat was meaningless and I won't sue her, she did need to be reprimanded in some way for that alone." Brennan placed the parts on the dresser. "I'll see if the restoration department can fix it."

"I told the kids if they touch your statues and stuff without your permission, they're going to lose a month's allowance." Booth glanced at the shelf holding a fertility goddess from the middle east somewhere and a figurine from South America. "I know you like this stuff, but we have kids and they don't really understand boundaries very well. You might want to put them up until Hank is older."

Brennan shook her head. "Children need to be exposed to historical treasures. It will help them to understand the historical value of objects from foreign cultures. I don't want to deprive them of such beautiful objects."

"Well, okay." Booth stood up and glanced at the broken statue. "The kids start at Little Seeley's school on Monday. They have a great science program and Daisy says that the school is supposed to be the best in the District . . . we'll see."

A timid knock on the door and the couple turned to see their son standing in the doorway. Holding his piggy bank in his hands, Hank walked over to where his mother was standing and handed it to her. "Here Mommy, I hope this will pay for the statue."

"Thank you, Hank. I'm sure it will."

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Let me know what you think of my story. Thank you.


	12. Chapter 12

(In the Future)

Thank you for reviewing my story. I appreciate it.

I really don't own Bones.

Ooooooooooooooooooo

Following his instructions, Christine found her brother parked on the side of the road where he said he would be. The hood of the mustang was propped up and her brother was standing on a toolbox placed on the ground in front of the car. Grateful that he wasn't hurt, she parked behind him and got out of her car, hurrying around the Mustang. "Hank are you insane?"

Glad his sister had finally arrived, the boy pointed at the engine and sighed. "I think it might be the carburetor. Could you look at it and see what you think?"

Furious that Hank had borrowed their father's car, Christine crossed her arms against her breasts. "Dad is going to be furious when he finds out you borrowed his car."

Since the deed was already done, the boy shrugged his shoulders. "I get it, I'm in trouble, now please look at the carburetor and tell me if I'm right or wrong. I need to get Dad's car back home before he realizes it's gone."

Pushing the boy from the toolbox, Christine stood on the toolbox and pulled the air filter away from the carburetor. "Okay try to start it."

Grateful for her help, Hank hurried around the car, popped onto the driver's seat and tried to start the car. After a few spluttery tries, he realized it wasn't going to start and flipped the key off. Holding the steering wheel tightly in his hands, he knew that if they didn't get home within the hour they'd have to call their Dad and that wasn't going to end well.

Christine flipped the butterfly valve open on the carburetor and held it open as she called out to her brother. "Try again."

Desperate, Hank turned the key and this time the car started. Almost in tears, the boy was careful to keep the car running.

Satisfied for the moment, Christine pulled the air filter toward her and dropped it near the tool box. Once that was done, she also placed the lid of the carburetor cover on the ground and watched the car run for a few seconds. Her hands now dirty, she stepped down from the toolbox and carried it, the air filter and the cover around to the back-passenger side of the car and opened the door. After she placed the toolbox, filter and cover on the floorboard, she closed the door and stepped over to the driver's side window. "Ok this is what's going to happen. You wait until I get into my car. Once I've flashed my lights, you enter the road and drive exactly three miles under the speed limit . . . not the speed limit, not over the speed limit, but three miles under the speed limit. Use your turn signals for every turn you make, no exceptions. Stop the car for every red light. Don't run any yellow lights. When we get home drive up to the garage and wait for me to open the door and then drive in. No fooling around, don't draw attention to yourself. It's dark so no one should be able to see you're a kid. If a cop decides to pull you over, do it and don't make any trouble. You be good as gold and you might survive this mess."

He knew his sister was giving him good advice and he was going to make sure he did everything she said. Hank realized that he should have left the mustang alone, but he was itching to drive it and now he realized the car had a problem he didn't know about. Thankfully his sister was interested in cars and tinkered with the mustang right along with their father. "I will Chrissy, I'm sorry. I promise to do what you said."

Exasperated that her brother was causing her so much trouble, Christine reached in through the open window and slapped the back of his head. "Dummy."

"Hey, I said I'm sorry." Hank rubbed the back of his head and glared at his sister. "Just follow me home and I promise I'll never do this again."

Grimly, Christine shook her head and walked back to her car. "God, please get us home safely. Hank is a very stupid 14-year-old boy and he still has a lot to learn. Thank you and Amen."

Ooooooooooooooooooo

The trip home was uneventful and for that the siblings were truly grateful. Once the boy parked the car in front of the garage door, he waited for his sister to open the door while he kept the car idling. Once Christine was out of her car, she opened the garage door and wasn't really surprised to see her father sitting on a lawn chair in the middle of the garage, his arms folded against his chest glaring at her. "Um, Dad, hey . . . uh, hi."

Slowly, Booth stood up, collapsed the lawn chair and carried it to the back of the garage. Once it was on a shelf, he turned, beckoned towards his son and pointed sharply at the floor in front of him.

Ever so carefully, the teenage boy drove the car into the garage and stopped it about one foot from his father. Turning off the key, he pulled it from the ignition and slowly got out of the car. Not sure what was going to happen next, he handed the keys to his father and waited for him to say or do something.

His eyes hooded, Booth pointed at the kitchen door leading from the garage and said nothing. Hank silently obeyed his father and left the garage as quickly as possible. Once the boy was gone, Booth turned to look at his daughter. "Well?"

Nervously, Christine licked her lips and decided to be truthful. "Okay, Hank took your car for a drive, but he didn't know it had a problem. He went to McDonalds and drove through the drive through for a coke and some fries. Once he was back on the road, someone cut him off and he slammed on the brakes and the car started spluttering so he parked on the side of the road. He turned off the engine . . . big mistake, when he tried to start it again it didn't start. I told you the carburetor had a problem Dad . . . anyway he called me and I went out and got the car started and we came back."

"You're nineteen years old, Christine, almost twenty." Booth tried to remain calm. "A woman, not a child . . . I thought I could count on you, but I guess I can't."

Her cheeks a crimson color, Christine felt her heart rate increasing. "I went out and got Hank and made sure he came home safely. I protected him and that's the thanks I get?"

His anger spiking, Booth glared at his daughter and tried to control his anger. "He's fourteen for God's sake. When he called you, you should have told me that he was in trouble. Instead you hid what was going on. You took a huge risk letting him drive the car back. You're both lucky you aren't sitting in a jail cell right now or worse a hospital."

"He's tall for his age." Christine couldn't believe she was in trouble for helping her brother. "He can pass for seventeen and even older in the dark. As long as he obeyed the traffic laws I knew he'd be okay."

"Wrong, he can pass for a tall fourteen year old boy." He knew his daughter thought she had done the right thing and that worried Booth the most. "You need to think, Christine. You say you protected him, but you didn't. You let an unlicensed, untrained teenage boy drive a car in the dark. A car that you knew was having mechanical problems . . . Instead of being mad at me why don't you think about what you did and take responsibility. You're an adult now and you need to start acting like one. You endangered your brother's life . . . yes, he stole my car and took a joy ride and he is going to be punished, but you . . . you just made the situation worse . . . your mother is going to be very disappointed in you . . ." Unable to continue, Booth walked around his daughter and out onto the driveway, walking down the pavement to the sidewalk running in front of the yard he turned right and continued on.

Christine watched her father until he was out of sight and knew that she had caused him pain. Whenever his anger was hot, he went for a walk because he was afraid he might do something he shouldn't. She knew about her father's father and Christine knew that Booth protected his family by walking away when his temper was high. "I'm sorry Dad."

"Perhaps you should tell him that when he can actually hear you." Brennan stood in the kitchen doorway and stared at her daughter. "Hank told me what happened. You exacerbated the problem, Christine. You're an adult now and I do think it is time for you to start to take responsibility for your actions."

Mortified, Christine nodded her head. "I was trying to protect Hank from Dad and you, but all I did was make Dad hate me."

"He doesn't hate you, Christine. He's just disappointed." Not sure there was anything else to say, Brennan pointed at the garage door. "Close the door and make sure the car doors are locked. Once you're done, come inside. I'll go look for your father. Make sure Hank takes a bath and goes to bed. It's early, but it would be better for him if he's in bed when his father comes back."

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She found him a few blocks away sitting at a bus stop. Sitting down next to him, she studied his body language and she could tell he was upset, but not angry. "She made a mistake, Booth. Hank knows he's in trouble and Christine realizes now that she made a mistake."

Staring at the toes of his boots, Booth shook his head. "We can't watch them all of the time and what they did tonight really worries me. Joy riding is dangerous and I guess we're going to have to keep the car doors locked from now on, but Christine . . . she really disappointed me. She should have told me or you what was going on."

Brennan placed her hand on her husband's knee and squeezed it lightly. "She was trying to protect her brother and she thought she could handle it by herself. She loves him and like you, she wants to protect the ones she loves . . . we all make mistakes, Booth. None of us are perfect, but we do learn from our mistakes. She won't make that particular mistake again."

"She does love her brother." Booth sat up straight and placed his arm around his wife and partner. "I'm glad . . . I never did get along with Jared and you and Russ have had your troubles, but so far our kids get along really well and they have each other's back. I am proud of them for that . . . still . . . Hank shouldn't have stolen my car and Christine should have told us what was going on . . . it might be a while before I trust either one of them. They've really disappointed me tonight."

"They know." Brennan saw the bus coming down the street and stood up. "Let's leave before the bus driver stops. He will be quite annoyed if he stops and we don't get on the bus."

Following Brennan down the sidewalk back towards their house, Booth waved at the bus as it drove by. "Bones, thanks for looking for me. I needed the company."

Slowing down, she let her husband catch up with her and she placed her arm around his waist. "Anytime Booth."

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Let me know what you think of my story. Thank you.


	13. Chapter 13

(In the future)

A/N: this is a reminder that these stories are not in chronological order. I just write them as I think of them.

I don't own Bones.

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The door slammed and the argument was over, at least for the moment. Christine stood staring at the front door and felt utterly frustrated. A noise down the hallway attracted her attention and since it sounded like it had come from her parent's bedroom, she hoped it was her mother. Storming down the hallway, she entered the bedroom and found her mother sitting on the chair near the closet holding a photo album in her hands. "Mom, he did it again. I was trying to explain my side and he just walked out of the house and slammed the door. Why does he do that? It's so unfair."

Since she had been privy to the entire very loud argument, Brennan knew exactly what they had been arguing about. Lately Booth and their daughter had begun to argue more frequently and more vociferously and Brennan tried to avoid being part of the exchange between the pair if she could help it. To accomplish that she usually remained out of sight. "You were explaining in a very loud voice."

"Well he was yelling too." Christine huffed and plopped down on the bed facing her mother. "He never lets me do anything. He wants to treat me like a child. I'm fourteen years old. I am not a child anymore." Staring at her mother, she tried to gauge what her mother thought of the situation and realized that her mother wasn't going to volunteer her feelings on the matter. "Come on Mom, you know he still treats me like I'm a child and it's maddening. You have to see that."

Her daughter was determined to involve her in the argument, so Brennan decided to accommodate her. "You are a child Christine. Fourteen is considered a child in this country. You will not be considered an adult until you reach the age of consent which is eighteen."

"I knew it, you're taking his side." Christine folded her arms against her chest and glared at her mother. "You always take his side."

 _And this is why I prefer to avoid becoming involved in Booth and Christine's arguments._ "You invited me into the conversation and I presented you with the facts." Brennan saw the scowl on her daughter's face and knew that it was possible that an argument was about to ensue and she wasn't really interested in accommodating her child. "You asked your father if you could stay at the mall until it closes tonight with your friends. He told you that it wasn't possible since we're going to Cam's house tomorrow morning for a day long barbeque and he wants to make sure everyone is up in a timely fashion in the morning. That should have been the end of the conversation, Christine. You are the child and Booth is the adult."

"It wouldn't hurt anything for me to hang out with my friends until the mall closes." Christine could see that once more she was being treated poorly by her parents.

She had known that raising teenagers was going to be stressful at times, but lately Christine was determined to upset both of her parents as much as possible. "It is our responsibility to set rules in this house and you and Hank must abide by them. If you stayed until it closed, the earliest you would be home would be 10:30. By the time you bathed and went to bed it would be around eleven or so. We plan to get up at seven tomorrow morning, eat breakfast, do some house cleaning and then go over to Cam's house and help her and Arastoo set up their barbeque. You know that you hate to get up early on the weekend and if you go to bed too late the task will be even more onerous than usual. You are not very pleasant when you wake up in the morning."

The argument was lost and the girl knew it. "Why does Dad just leave when he's angry with me? It's unfair that he does that. For once I'd like him to stick around long enough for us to hash out our argument, just once."

Hesitating, Brennan stared at the album in her hands and finally made a decision. "You are growing up and you are approaching adulthood. Perhaps you are old enough to understand what I am about to tell you . . . I don't think your father ever intended to tell you what I am about to say, but I think you deserve to know more about your father's past. I think it will help you to understand his motives better."

Intrigued, Christine placed her hands on her knees and stared in curiosity at her mother. "I remember when he was gone that summer when I was five. I did some research last year and I know what happened to him and why. It was really awful and poor Uncle Sweets . . ."

"I applaud your initiative Christine, you were curious and you found a way to get the information you were seeking, but I wish to speak to you about something else."

The girl nodded her head to encourage her mother to continue.

Her daughter's attention focused on her, Brennan grimly spoke about Booth's childhood. "When Booth was a child he lived in a house of sadness. His father drank alcohol to excess and he was abusive towards his children and his wife." The look of shock on Christine's face worried Brennan, but she had started a conversation that had to be finished. "His mother ran away after being severely hurt and that left your father and his brother at the mercy of an abusive drunk . . . Booth was repeatedly beaten by his father and to some extent so was Jared . . . When Booth was ten years old his grandfather found out what his son was doing to his grandchildren and took them away from Edwin . . . Your father has tried his best to be nothing like his father. He has never struck you or me for that matter. He has a temper and when it is pushed too far, he leaves so that he may calm down. He is afraid that he might harm you or Hank if he stays. I know he would never do that, but he doesn't completely trust himself. Your father is a good man and he is gentle with his family. He loves us and he would never hurt us, but he is afraid he could . . . he is the son of an abuser and that cycle is very hard to break. Booth and Jared broke from that cycle, but it still worries your father, so he leaves . . . do you understand? He leaves because he loves you very much and he wants to protect you."

Taking in her mother's words, Christine thought about what her father had gone through as a boy and she knew that her complaints about her parents lately were beyond the mark. They were always kind to her even when she made mistakes, finding a punishment that usually furthered her knowledge in some way. Neither had ever hit her or her brother and the most she had to complain about was the fact that her father yelled at her when he was frustrated and she was being stubborn. She knew she was stubborn, but her Aunt Cam said it was a family trait and it was something they all had to live with. "Gosh Mom, I didn't know."

"I hope you don't mention this to your father. I think it would embarrass him." Brennan heard the front door open and close. "I think Booth is back." Placing the album on the chair after she stood up, Brennan pointed at the doorway. "Perhaps you and your father can now finish the conversation calmly and with restraint."

Booth entered the room and glanced at his wife and then his child. "Christine, I didn't mean to yell at you, but you weren't listening to anything I said. You were talking over me and I needed you to hear me."

"I know, Dad." Christine gave her father a smile. "It's too late to go to the mall now anyway. I think I'm going to go see if Hank wants to play a video game with me."

After she left the room, Booth leaned against the dresser and shook his head. "I am never going to understand that kid. One moment she's angry as a hornet with me and the next minute she's talking about playing games. You know I don't remember being that way as a teenager, but maybe I was. Who knows?"

Moving over to where Booth was, Brennan kissed his cheek and smiled. "Life is very interesting with teenagers in the house. I thought our children were fascinating as toddlers, but now I see that the teenage years are going to be very interesting indeed. I may even eventually write a paper about them."

"Interesting . . . if you say so." Booth straightened up and glanced at the album on the chair. "Looking at baby pictures again?"

Brennan shook her head. "No, I was looking at the pictures you have from when you were a child. You were a handsome child."

"Thank you." Booth reached for his wife and pulled her into his embrace. "So want to make out?"

After she kissed him, Brennan patted his chest. "Maybe later when the children are asleep. For now, I'd like to play a board game with you. We haven't done that in weeks and I'd like to do that. It is very relaxing."

"Sure, why not?" Booth followed Brennan down the hallway. "Not chess though. I never win."

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Let me know what you think of my story. Thank you.


	14. Chapter 14

Amanda3271 thought it might be interesting to see how Booth reacted to Christine's first date.

Thank you for reviewing my story.

I don't own Bones.

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A little nervous, Bryan Cox stood outside the front door of the Booth/Brennan household and ran his hand through his short red hair. He had met Christine's parents once at the high school football homecoming game, but that had just been a quick introduction and a stare from Christine's father that had left the teenager's blood run cold.

Determined to show no fear, Bryan ran his hand through his hair one more time and knocked on the door. After a few short seconds the door was opened by Christine's little brother, Hank. "Hey man, is Christine ready? Tell her I'm here."

Amused that Christine's boyfriend thought it was going to be that easy, Hank smirked and stepped aside. "Sorry, Bryan, you have to come in and meet the folks. They're old school."

His plan to avoid the parents thwarted, Bryan looked at his watch, shook his head and stepped into the house. "I told Christine to be ready by 6:30. The movie starts at 7:15."

"Dad thought Christine might get cold dressed the way she was and made her change her clothes." Hank laughed and pointed towards the living room. The last half hour had been a test of wills between his father and his sister. She had wanted to wear her new blouse, but their father had taken one look at it and turned pale. The shirt was a shear white color and displayed her frilly black bra underneath rather prominently. Hank had been sure their father was going to have a stroke until their mother intervened.

Alarmed at the escalating words being used between her loved ones, Brennan had finally stepped in between her husband and her daughter and pulled Christine down the hallway to her bedroom to make sure she changed her blouse. Hank was sure that his mother had thought his father was overreacting, but wanted an end to the war of words.

Since Booth threatened to cancel Christine's first date if she didn't do what he said, Brennan probably knew it was a battle Christine would not win. When Booth wore his stubborn look, no one won and Brennan wanted a pleasant evening with her husband. She'd had a very busy week and she wanted to relax and not have a petulant husband on her hands.

"You can wait for her in the living room." Hank walked past Bryan and passed by his father who was sitting on the couch watching a football game. "Dad . . . Bryan . . . Bryan . . . Assistant Deputy Director Seeley Booth of the FBI and formally a sniper with the United States Army Rangers." With that he walked over to a chair near the picture window and sat down. Hank was hoping to be entertained in the next few minutes and he wasn't disappointed.

His television remote in his hand, Booth turned down the volume of the game and turned to stare at Bryan. "So Bryan, where are you and Christine going on your first date?" He actually already knew the answer to that question, but this was his opening into the conversation.

The cold look on Booth's face made Bryan want to squirm, but he straightened his back instead and answered the question. "We're going to the movies, Sir . . . Escape from Red Claws . . . it's an action movie."

"Escape from Red Claws?" Booth had just seen that movie a week ago with his kids and found it weird that Christine had agreed to see it again since it had turned out to be very boring and totally predictable. "She hated that movie the first time she saw it."

Surprised, Bryan frowned at Booth. "She saw it? She promised not to see it until we could go see it together."

Realizing that he had stepped into something he shouldn't have, Booth shrugged his shoulders. "It was my son's turn to pick the movie on family night and he chose that movie. She didn't make the choice."

Since he hadn't seen the movie, Bryan was determined to see it anyway. "Well, I guess she'll just have to see it again. She promised me she'd wait and I'm going to hold her to it."

A slight smirk on his face, Booth shook his head. "If that's how you show a girl a good time, then good luck to you. She's going to find out that you knew she'd seen it already sooner or later and that you didn't care if she was bored or not. Not exactly the best way to keep a girlfriend especially with someone like Christine. She doesn't forget stuff like that. She's like her mother and never forgets anything."

Hank leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees. The look of uncertainty on Bryan's face was just too good to miss.

"Um well, maybe we can see something else." Bryan felt liked he was the wronged party, but this was his first date out with Christine and he didn't want to screw it up. "But Christine should have waited . . . "

"I should have waited for what?" Christine entered the room wearing a light pink blouse which Booth approved of.

Turning to face his date, Bryan shrugged his shoulders. "Your Dad said that you've already seen 'Escape from Red Claws' and you thought it was boring."

Her eyes hooded, Christine glanced at her father and noticed the innocent look he had on his face. "That doesn't mean we can't see it again if you want to see it Bryan. It's not too bad."

"But it is bad?" Bryan decided that he might not want to see the movie if everyone kept saying how boring and bad it is. "We can see something else . . . I think you wanted to see 'Fifty Shades of Gray VI'. . . ."

"Whoa." Booth stood up and shook his head. "You cannot see that movie. You're sixteen and it's rated R. No way you're going to see that movie. The damn thing should be rated X from what Aubrey told me. He said it even made him blush and he's a grown man for God's sake."

"Dad. . . ." Christine didn't finish the sentence as her mother intervened. "Christine, you may not see that movie. It is not age appropriate. Your Aunt Angela says there are graphic sex scenes that made her uncomfortable and you know that if she was uncomfortable then they were pornographic and not artistic in the least."

Her cheeks hot, Christine glared at her mother. "Mom alright . . . We'll go see the remake of 'Mulan' . . . This is just a date for goodness sake to the movies. It's not like I'm going to have sex tonight . . . "

"Christine!" Booth took a deep breath and lowered his voice. "I expect to see you home by ten. Not a minute later or Bryan here might find out just how damn good I was at my job in the Army."

Appalled that he was now the center of an enraged Booth's attention, Bryan held up his hands to placate the man. "Sir, we're just going to the movies and then we're going to get pizza. We'll be back by ten."

His anger with his daughter spilling over the young man who was trying to date her, Booth glared at Bryan and jerked his head up and down. "I expect you to be a gentleman with my daughter at all times."

"Dad!" Christine was outraged that Bryan was being bullied. "We're leaving now. We're going the movies and we're going to look for a movie rated X and we're going to stay out until midnight."

Brennan stepped between the warring factions and laughed. "You will do no such thing Christine. Go on your date and be back by ten."

Her mother's smile cause Christine to pause. Chuckling, the young woman shook her head and kissed her mother's cheek. "We'll be back at ten and we'll probably see Rick Danger's new movie 'Bullet'."

Her arm now across her daughter's shoulders, Brennan escorted her and Bryan to the door. "If you need any help for anything, please call me. It won't be a problem. I hope you enjoy your date and don't worry about your father. You know he's been nervous all week about this first right of passage. You know what he's like."

Christine hugged her mother and released her. "Yes, I know." Before she left she called out to her father, "Bye Dad, I love you."

"I love you too, Sweetheart." Booth picked up his television remote and turned the volume back up. "Hank go order us some pizza and make sure my pizza has meat on it this time."

As his son moved down the hallway to the kitchen to look at menus, Brennan entered the living room and sat down on the couch next to her husband. "Well that went better than I thought it would."

Booth nodded his head. "You played your role pretty good there Bones. Just the right amount of good cop against my bad cop. Christine will be home at ten and that Bryan won't try any shit with our little girl."

"My acting has greatly improved, Booth." Brennan missed her days of going undercover with her husband. "It's too bad that we can't be Buck and Wanda anymore."

His voice lowered, Booth pulled her into his embrace. "Who says we can't. Maybe Buck is going to be searching for his Wanda tonight after the kids are in bed."

Amused, Brennan squeezed his hip and laughed. "Well, I look forward to that. Yes, indeed."

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Let me know what you think of my story. Thank you.


	15. Chapter 15

(After season 12)

A/N: aadams00 wants a story about Hank's first date. I hope this is what you wanted.

I don't own Bones.

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Booth stood in the doorway of his son's bedroom and watched the boy brushing his hair. Hank seemed to be trying several ways to comb it and Booth found that very amusing. "Why not just comb it the way you normally do?"

Startled, the boy turned around and blushed. "I'm just experimenting." Just because his father wore his hair the same way all of the time didn't mean he had to.

"Donna has known you since grade school." Booth entered the room, pulled the chair away from the desk near the window and sat down. "Sit down, Hank. We need to talk."

He had known that this was coming, but the boy was still irritated that his father felt it was necessary. "Come on Dad. It's just a date. Donna and I are going to the movies and we're going to eat at Poppies."

Undeterred, Booth pointed at the bed and smiled. "This is your first date and I'm going to talk to you, so you might as well sit down."

Reluctantly, the boy placed his hair brush on the dresser and sat on his bed. Grimly, he folded his arms against his chest and waited.

"Yeah, yeah, you don't want your old man's advice, but you're going to get it anyway." Booth leaned back against the chair and crossed his legs. He wanted to give his son the impression that he was relaxed. "This is your first date and we need to go over some ground rules."

"I know Dad . . . home by ten, no movies rated above PG-13. Don't get into trouble. You've told me this like a million times." Hank was sixteen years old and he wanted his father to stop treating him like a kid. "I'm sixteen Dad. I'm not going to do anything stupid."

His smiled faded as he stared at his son. "You won't? . . . I expect you to behave like a gentleman while you're with Donna. She's fifteen years old. You two are too young for sex."

"Dad!" The teenager couldn't believe his father was bringing that up. "For God's sake. We're going to a movie and eat out. We aren't going to a hotel and make out . . . Her father already told me that he'd track me down and blow my nuts off if I don't behave with Donna. I'm not stupid."

Donna's father was a major in the United States Army and a veteran having served in two foreign engagements. Booth admired the man and he knew that Bruce was very protective of his children. "I'd take him seriously if I were you. There's plenty of time for sex when you get older, but right now you two are still kids and I want you to remember that it only takes one mistake to change your life forever."

"Like you, Dad?" Hank smugly replied to his father. "According to Mom, none of your kids were planned. We were all mistakes."

His eyes hooded, Booth glared at his son's disrespect. "I was a man when my children were born. I was thirty when Parker was born and I was in a relationship with his mother. Yeah, we should have been using protection, but we were going to get married and we were careless, but we were adults not kids, not teenagers."

His father's voice was filled with anger and Hank knew he had crossed a line he shouldn't have. "Dad . . ."

Booth cut him off with a wave of a hand. "You have big plans. You want to go to college and study to be a veterinarian. What do you think would happen to your plans if you became a father at seventeen or eighteen? Donna wants to become a CPA. What do you think would happen to her plans if she became pregnant while she was in high school? Yes, my kids weren't planned for and that's my fault, but when my kids came, I was working at a job I loved. I was in a relationship with a woman I loved and wanted to be with for the rest of my life. Rebecca and I didn't work out, but that's beside the point. Your Mom and Rebecca were already working in their fields and your mother was the best anthropologist in the world not some teenager just starting her life when she had Christine and you. Don't you dare ever bring that up again as an excuse for anything. I love my kids and even though they weren't planned for they're all loved, including you. I supported my kids because I was a man when they were born. Do you think a teenage boy with no job can do that?"

"Dad . . ." Hank tried to stop his father's rant. The man was getting angrier by the minute and he was staring to worry. "Dad . . ."

Abruptly, Booth stood up, jammed his hands in his pants pockets and left the room. Furious that his son had been so disrespectful, he marched down the hallway and into the living room where he started to pace.

Brennan noticed her husband's agitation as she watched him walk past the kitchen and she knew that his talk with Hank had gone awry. Moving down the hallway, she entered her son's bedroom and stared at the boy. "Why is your father angry?"

Embarrassed, the teenager sighed and kept his eyes on the rug at his feet. "Dad was trying to give me the sex talk. He thinks I'm stupid, but I'm not. I don't plan on having three unplanned kids like he did and I told him so."

Shocked, Brennan shook her head in disbelief. "Hank, how could you talk to your father like that? He loves his children and he didn't sire any of them as a teenager. He was a grown male and in serious relationships when he sired his children. Yes, they weren't planned, but that doesn't mean anything. I can assure you most pregnancies are not planned for and your father was ready to financially support his children when they were born." Calmer, Brennan sat down on the chair her husband had vacated earlier. "He wants you to have all of the facts. Siring a child as a teenager can cause many complications. Both parents usually end up with less education because they both have to work to support their child unless they give that child up for adoption. Less education means they may not attain the career that they want."

Hank knew that he should have never said what he said to his father and his mother berating him for it made the situation worse. "I'm sorry okay? I just didn't want Dad to give me a lecture on sex. I already know what I need to know and my date with Donna is just going to be a movie and pizza. We aren't going to have sex or anything. I bet you didn't talk to Christine like this. It isn't fair you're talking to me about sex just because I'm a guy."

"If that is what you think, then you are wrong. Christine was given all the facts she needed before her first date too . . . Do you know how old I was before I had sex?" Brennan watched her son finally look up and stare at her instead of the rug.

His cheeks red from embarrassment, Hank shook his head. "God, Mom, I don't want to know that. Come on. You're my mother for crying out loud."

"I was 22." She had been very careful about her first time having sex and she had planned it out carefully. She wanted her son to understand that not everyone had sex in their teens.

"22?" Hank stared at his mother and wondered if she was lying. "Really?"

A slight smile on her lips. Brennan nodded her head. "Yes really. I was very careful about choosing my moment. I was well versed in birth control and I was prepared. Can you say the same?"

"Gosh Mom." Hank wished he had never agreed to go on the date with Donna. "You and Dad don't seem to get it. I'm just going to a movie. Donna and I are best friends and we aren't going to do anything that'll ruin our chances to go to college. You should trust me. I'm not dumb and neither is Donna. You and Dad have given me the sex talk more than once and I understand. I do. Just trust me, okay? Just trust me."

Brennan stood up, moved over to the bed and sat down next to her son. "We do trust you, Hank, but you're young and it doesn't hurt to remind you of certain facts when it's necessary. You really shouldn't have talked so disrespectfully to your father. He didn't deserve that. He loves you very much. You are our last-born child and there will be no more after you. We want you to have the same advantages as your brother and sister. Do you understand?"

Placing his arm around his mother's waist, Hank leaned against her. "I love you too Mom."

"I hope you have fun on your date and if you have any problems, feel free to call me or your father." Brennan felt like she was losing her little boy and she knew that was ridiculous. She wasn't losing anything, but it still felt like her world was changing and she wasn't ready for it. Standing she leaned over and kissed the boy on the cheek. "You look so much like your father. It's uncanny."

Hank smiled and stood up. "You think so?" The boy loved his father and wanted to be like him as much as possible. His father was a hero and everyone liked him.

"Yes, I really think so." Brennan walked over to the door and looked back. "You need to brush your hair. It looks strange."

Surprised, Hank stood up and looked in the mirror. Picking up the brush he styled his hair like he normally wore it. He wanted to look good for Donna, after all it was his first date with her.

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"Dad, I'm sorry I was such a smart ass." Hank stood near the fireplace and looked at his father with uncertainty. He knew he had crossed a line he shouldn't have, but he hoped his father would forgive him. "I didn't meant it."

Sitting down on the couch, Booth stared at his youngest child for a few seconds and then smiled. "I'm sorry you're a smart ass too."

The teenager snorted and shook his head. "I'll be home at ten." Waving his hand, he left the room. He needed to hurry or he was going to be late for his date.

Once the boy was out of the house, Brennan joined Booth in the living room, handing him a bottle of beer before she sat down. "He was rude, but he's a teenager. He didn't mean to be mean to you."

Taking the bottle, Booth twisted off the cap and drank a third of the bottle before he placed it on the coffee table with the bottle cap. "He reminds me too much of Jared and that worries me."

"He is nothing like Jared and you know that." Brennan placed her bottle of beer on the coffee table and placed her arm around her husband's arm. "He's just young and has a lot to learn. Jared was a selfish man who never took responsibility for anything he did. Our son is a very responsible young man and he will do the right thing. I trust him and so do you."

"Yeah, I do." Booth sighed. "It was easier when our kids were little. Now Parker and Christine are adults and Hank is not too far behind them. I want them to be happy. It's all I ever wanted. Just be happy."

She loved her husband so much. He was a good father. He had always been a good father. "They are happy, Booth and so am I."

"Oh yeah?" Booth leaned against his wife and smiled. "We're alone in the house right now. The kid won't be back until ten. Want to make out?"

As she slipped her hand down Booth's thigh, Brennan laughed. "When have I ever turned down sex, Booth?" Her hand approaching her objective, Brennan knew that her life was moving into a new phase and it would be just as interesting as the last twenty-seven years had been with Booth in her life. She was losing nothing by her children getting older. She wasn't losing anything at all.

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Let me know what you think of my story. Thank you.


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: A little angst, but I promise it has a happy ending.

I don't own Bones.

Ooooooooooooooooooo

The person behind the voice was trying not to panic, but Booth heard it and his heart started to beat faster.

 _Mr. Booth, did you or Mrs. Booth pick up Christine today and forget to sign her out?_

"What do you mean?" Booth couldn't believe he was hearing this from Christine's school. "I didn't pick up Christine . . . hold on, let me call my wife . . . and by the way her name is Dr. Temperance Brennan . . . just hold on." He placed the school administrator on hold and called his partner. "Bones is Christine with you?"

 _No, of course not. She's in school. Why are you asking me that?_

"I'm asking because her school is asking. I'll call you right back . . . just don't panic." The call ended Booth was back on the line with Candy Stitt. "Hey, my wife says no, now explain what's going on."

 _Well Sir, we can't seem to find Christine. Her teacher noticed she didn't come back from lunch and we've spent the last hour searching the school for her . . . Is it possible that a grandparent or other relative picked her up?"_

His heart was now racing in his chest. "No, it's not possible. We keep a tight schedule for our child . . . Did you look outside the school?"

 _We checked the playground and we circled the school to make sure, but we haven't found her Sir. Would you like for me to call the police?_

"No! I'm the police. If somethings happened to my kid you people are in for a world of hurt." Hanging up, he called Brennan back. "Christine isn't in school. She disappeared sometime during lunch period . . . Is it possible that Max picked her up?"

 _No Booth. He's in Oregon this week visiting a friend of his . . . or at least that's what he said. We need to find Christine. We need to look for her now._

"I know. Tell Angela, Hodgins and Cam about what is going on and get everyone to do a search starting at the school." Booth stood up and grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. "I'll get Aubrey to help too. I'll go by the house and see if she'd there. If she isn't I'll drive towards school and see if I see her."

 _Booth, what if someone . . ._

"Don't jump to conclusions, Bones. Let's get the search started." Booth walked into the bullpen and spied Aubrey at his desk. "Let me know if someone finds her." The call ended, he charged over to Aubrey's desk, leaned over the agent and spoke in a low tone. "My daughter is missing from school. Bones and the squints are going to start searching for her. I'm on the way to my house. Can you help search for her? You know where her school is. Just pick a street and look for her."

Terrified for the little girl. Aubrey stood up, retrieved his gun and badge from his desk and followed Booth down to the parking garage. He started a prayer on the way to his car asking God to be merciful and just let it be a mistake.

Ooooooooooooooooooooo

She was angry, very angry. She had been at lunch when Tina Givens wanted to trade her bag of potato chips for Christine's homemade oatmeal cookies. Not being a fool, she had turned the offer down. "No thank you."

Angry that Christine refused to trade, Tina sneered at the younger girl and spoke rather loudly. "My Dad says your Dad was in prison and he should still be there. He murdered some guys. Your Dad is awful."

Furious, Christine had shot to her feet and glared the taunting girl. "That's not true. My Daddy is a hero. He saved us from very bad men. My Daddy isn't a murderer."

"Then why was he in prison?" Tina wanted the students surrounding the table to hear her, so she spoke louder. "Tell me that."

Quick with an answer, Christine also spoke loudly. "My Daddy was in jail because bad men did that to him. He's a hero and they had to let him out because the bad men are in jail now."

Uncertain about the facts, Tina decided she didn't care. "Well my Daddy says your Dad is a murderer so he is."

Glowering, Christine picked up her cookies, tore them into little pieces and dumped them on the floor. "You're a liar . . . You wanted my cookies so bad, eat them." Picking up her lunch bag, she glared at Tina once more before leaving. "No wonder no one likes you, Tina." Seeing the shock on the other girl's face was satisfying, but she was both embarrassed that she had said that and angry that Tina was so mean, so she left.

Once she was outside the lunch room, she walked down the hallway to the back door leading out to the playground and marched towards the woods. She knew there was a street on the other side of the woods since she had seen it once when she had done some exploring during recess. Her idea was to walk to that street and then home. She wasn't going to go to school with mean kids and that was a fact.

Ooooooooooooooooooo

Everyone that knew Christine left the Lab to search for her while Booth searched his house and his front and back yards for his daughter. He found the house deserted and that made him just that more anxious. With no other option, he started driving slowly down the street on the way to his daughter's school. He wasn't sure what was going on, but he prayed to God that this wasn't a kidnapping. Since he had destroyed Durant and his ring of traitors, he knew that he had a lot of enemies and he was afraid that one of the horrifying possibilities was that his daughter had been kidnapped for revenge.

Brennan arrived at the school with her work mates and ignoring the protests of the principal and security, they searched the school verifying for themselves that the child wasn't there. Once it was clear Christine wasn't on the premises, everyone raced towards their cars, took off down the streets and started to search each side street. Brennan called Booth. _Booth she isn't at the school. Cam, Hodgins, Angela and Wendell are searching the streets now. We need to have an Amber alert pushed out by law enforcement._

He had come to the same conclusion. "I'll call the police and let them know. I'm driving from home to the school. I haven't seen her so far."

 _Alright. I will continue to search . . . Booth . . ._

"We'll find her Bones, I promise. We will find her."

Oooooooooooooooooooo

Lost, Christine now realized that she should have used the street in front of the school to go home. She had wanted to avoid the security guard that hung around the front of the building because he might have tried to make her stay in school, but now she was in trouble. She didn't know where she was.

Frustrated with the situation, she sat down on the corner of a crossroads and tried to decide which street she should take. She knew where she lived, but she was on streets she didn't recognize. She had asked her mother for a cell phone for her birthday, but her mother had told her that six year old girls didn't need one. Boy was her mother wrong now.

While she thought about her dilemma, Aubrey spotted her in the distance as he drove towards the crossroads. His heart rate increasing, he hurried down the street and pulled over on the shoulder of the road where the little girl sat. Quickly getting out of the car, Aubrey strode over to where she was sitting and placed his hands on his hips. "Why are you out here Christine? Your parents are looking for you."

She was so glad to see Aubrey, but at the same time, she knew she was in trouble. Standing, she threw her arms around the agent's waist and sobbed. "I want to go home."

Her tears pushed him to kneel and take the girl into his arms. "It's okay, Baby. I'll take you home." Standing, he carried her to his truck and placed her in the back-passenger seat. He let her cry for a while and once her tears were done, he found a box of Kleenex in the trunk of his SUV, gave it to Christine and made sure she blew her nose. "Okay, buckle up and I'll take you home."

Glad that someone had found her, Christine nodded her head. "I'm in trouble."

"I'm afraid so." Aubrey smiled. "You made a mistake, but I bet you don't do this again will you?"

"No." Christine sighed. "No, I won't."

Once the child was buckled in, Aubrey closed the door and walked over the side of his truck and pulled his phone from his pocket. "Booth, I found her and I'm on the way to your house."

 _Thank God. Is she alright?_

"Yeah, she cried when I found her, but she was just happy to see me." Aubrey noticed a police cruiser coming down the street and watched it as the officer slowed down and parked next to him. "Got to go, a policeman just pulled up next to me . . . Officer." The agent pulled his ID and badge from his jacket pocket and showed it to the policeman. "Special Agent Aubrey, FBI. I found Christine Booth, I know there is an Amber Alert out for her. I just talked with her father and I'm returning her home."

Wary of the situation, Officer Monroe nodded his head. "I'll follow you to her house." He wanted to make sure that Aubrey was going to do what he said he was going to do.

Amused, Aubrey slipped in his car. "Sweetheart, we're going home and we have a police escort."

Tears spilling from her eyes again, Christine blew her nose on a clean tissue. "Okay."

Oooooooooooooooo

Booth was standing in front of his SUV in the driveway when Aubrey pulled into the driveway with the police cruiser pulling in afterward, effectively blocking Aubrey in the driveway. Once the truck was stopped, Booth raced down the driveway and opened the passenger side of truck. Realizing she wasn't in the front seat, he opened the back door, unbuckled his sobbing daughter and pulled her into his arms. "Christine." He held her in his arms and thanked God she was alright.

Brennan pulled into the driveway behind the police officer, got out of her car and raced towards where her little family was standing. "Christine!"

Glad to see her mother, Christine called out for her mother and once Brennan was close enough, Booth placed the child in her mother's arms. "She's okay, Bones."

Sobbing, Brennan held her daughter in her arms and kissed her several times. "Christine, we were so worried. Why did you leave the school?"

Tearfully, the child sobbed out an answer. "Tina called Daddy a murderer and I was mad. I wanted to go home."

Overhearing the child, the police officer became a little nervous. "Sir."

Booth knew that the situation could go sideways in a hurry. "I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth. I don't know if you know who I am . . . "

"I know who you are, Sir." The officer relaxed. "Thank you for your service."

Grateful he didn't have to explain what was going on, Booth smiled. "Thanks and thank you for looking for my little girl."

"Not a problem, Sir." Officer Monroe returned to his car and contacted his supervisor. He needed the Amber Alert stopped as soon as possible.

One by one cars began to line up on the street on the shoulder in front of the house and Cam, Hodgins, Angela and Wendell raced towards the family standing in the driveway. Once they were sure Christine was alright, they patted Booth and Brennan on the back and returned to the Lab, grateful that Christine was alright. They knew that Brennan would give them the full story as soon as she could, but for now, they needed to leave the little family alone. The child was safe and that was all that mattered to them.

Aubrey smiled at the scene of Booth and Brennan hugging their daughter and shook his head. "Wow, never a dull moment with you two and that's a fact."

Booth glanced at Aubrey and smiled. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." The agent decided to leave and drive back to the Hoover. He had a pile of work to do, but first, he would stop by the diner for a congratulatory piece of pie with ice cream and a large chocolate shake. He deserved a reward and it was okay if he was the one that provided it.

Oooooooooooooooooo

They sat in the living room while Christine explained what had happened and why she had left the school. Both parents were glad their little girl was safe, but angry that she had left the school alone. They had a long conversation with the child about following rules and how in the future she could not leave the school by herself.

"I'm sorry, Mommy. I'm sorry, Daddy." And she was. She had upset her parents and the rest of her family and she hadn't meant to do that at all.

"We know you are, Sweetheart." Booth sighed and glanced at Brennan before looking back at his daughter. "I think for the next month you have to stay home on the weekends. No movies or skating or anything else that's fun. Instead, you have to stay home and help out with some chores. None of your friends can come visit either."

The punishment seemed harsh to Brennan, but she didn't object. What their daughter had done was dangerous and it could have easily turned out a tragedy. Once Christine was sent to her room for the rest of the afternoon, Brennan moved from the chair to the couch and sat next to her husband. "I was never more afraid in my life when I heard that she was missing."

"God me too." Booth placed his arm around Brennan's shoulder. "This has been a hell of a day." Silent for a few seconds, Booth chuckled. "That kid makes me so proud. She stood up to that bully, Tina and called me a hero. Wow!"

"Well, you are a hero." Brennan snuggled next to her husband. "But don't let it go to your head. I'm a hero too."

Amused, Booth kissed the top of his wife's head. "You sure are, Bones. Our kid has super heroes for parents."

"Now you're getting carried away." Brennan knew that Booth liked to think of himself as Superman, but in actuality he was just a man. Her man. "She wanted a cell phone for her birthday."

"Hm." Booth thought about it. "Nope, she's just a baby . . . God what's it going to be like when she becomes a teenager? We're in for a bumpy ride, Bones. A very bumpy ride."

Oooooooooooooooooooo

Let me know what you think of my story. Thank you.


	17. Chapter 17

(Sometime in the Future)

Thank you for reviewing my story. I appreciate it.

I don't own Bones.

Oooooooooooooooooo

In his office, working on a proposal for a new gravity convection oven for the Lab, Hodgins was interrupted by his good friend, Dr. Brennan.

"Hodgins . . . Jack, I would like to invite you to a small social gathering this Saturday at my home." Brennan handed him an invitation and smiled. "I have already asked Angela and she says that you can both make it, but I didn't feel it would be right to exclude you from the decision-making process."

Wary that Brennan was actually handing him an invitation after she had given one to Angela, Hodgins opened the invitation and read it. "A recital?"

Brennan nodded her head and explained what was going on. "Christine's school is going to sponsor a play for the students. They are going to be doing 'Annie'. It's a musical. If you don't know what 'Annie' is about, the play is about an orphan . . . "

Hodgins held up his hand to stop Brennan from giving him an in depth detailed description about the play. "I've seen 'Annie' Dr. B. You don't need to tell me what it's about."

"Good." Brennan glanced over her shoulder as two rather loud technicians walked by in the hallway arguing over the final score of the Super Bowl. "Apparently the Superball didn't end the way most of our employees wished. I know Booth was upset."

"Super Bowl and the Saints beating the Steelers by 35 points was a little embarrassing." Hodgins had lost a bet over that game and he was still angry with the Steelers. "So, the recital?"

"Oh yes." Brennan was annoyed that she had allowed herself to become sidetracked over football. "Christine tried out for the play, but she wasn't chosen for any of the parts. She was heartbroken and Booth thought it might be fun if we had a recital at home. We are inviting our friends to come and Christine will sing several songs. We are also providing food and drink for lunch."

Feeling trapped like a rat in a trap, Hodgins mind raced with various possibilities that he could use to get out of going. "So, Angela said we could come?" Maybe he could fake a fall from his chair or a heart attack . . .

"Yes, I am grateful that you can attend. Christine will be so happy." Brennan still had several invitations to deliver. "I'll see you Saturday." With that she left.

Glaring at his friend as she left his office, Hodgins started to grumble. "Angela, I love you, but I'm going to kill you. I really am."

Oooooooooooooooooooo

Saturday came and Angela pulled up in the driveway and once Hodgins was out of the van, she followed him to the front door of the Booth/Brennan house. "Remember Jack, just because Christine is a terrible singer doesn't mean you can't clap after she sings. The poor child is tone deaf, but that isn't her fault."

Irritated that Booth thought it was okay to torture his friends, Hodgins rolled up to the front door and stopped. "I love Christine as if she was my own, but my God, she makes my ears bleed when she sings. She didn't inherit her mother's singing ability at all. Also, I think it's unfair that our sons get to hang out with Billy today and I have to be here suffering."

Annoyed, Angela slapped the back of her husband's head. "Be nice. It's just a couple of songs."

"Several songs, Brennan said several." As he was making his point the front door opened and Booth overhead the last comment.

"Yeah, I think she's planning on singing five songs. Come in." Booth was glad to see his friends. Wendell and his wife had cancelled at the last minute as did Daisy and her new husband. "Bones and I cooked all morning, so you guys will get a great lunch after Christine does her thing."

As he rolled his chair into the living room, Hodgins spied Aubrey sitting on the couch drinking a beer and eating a spinach puff. "Hey man."

His lips covered with brittle bits of puff pastry, Aubrey wiped his lips with the back of his hand. "Glad you could make it. Wendell and Daisy wimped out the bastards." Careful not to be overheard by his hosts, he leaned forward and lowered his voice as the entomologist moved his chair next to the end of the couch. "Shit, I love that little munchkin as if she was my own kid, but, come on." He couldn't believe that at nine years of age Christine's voice was so bad. He had always thought little kids were great singers and their voices just turned bad at puberty. Boy had he been wrong. "The only one I know that sings worse than she does is Booth."

Before he could respond, Brennan came by holding a bottle of beer and a platter of snacks. "Here Jack. I also made your favorite candied bacon."

Quickly grabbing the beer bottle and a handful of the candied meat, Jack grinned at his friend. "Thanks Dr. B. I love your candied bacon." After she left to go back to the kitchen, Hodgins sighed. "Well, at least we're going to eat well."

Ooooooooooooooooooooooo

Christine stood in front of the picture window and made a slight bow towards her audience. Her Daddy had told her that was how professional singers did it and she wanted to show that she knew the proper etiquette of singing to an audience. Her audience consisted of her family and several people that she considered family, so she wasn't nervous at all.

Caroline Julian sipped from her wine glass and smiled at her 'niece'. The child had inherited her father's singing abilities which was a shame, but at least the child didn't let it bother her. Her personal philosophy in life was always move forward even if you didn't know what you were doing. It worked for her and she has passed that sage bit of truth on to Christine and Hank.

Though he hadn't really wanted to come, Clark Edison and his new wife had decided that family events had to be attended no matter how much you didn't want to go. Booth and Brennan had become dear friends to him and therefore part of his family several years ago and he always made time for the kids when they had special events in the works. Leaning next to his wife, he spoke softly. "Now remember Babe, she's trying."

Cam and Arastoo sat on chairs near the back of the room and held hands. Their sons had begged to be allowed to go to a movie and they had both agreed, but Arastoo wasn't happy about it. They were never going to learn how to take the bad with the good, if they avoided it all.

Proud of his daughter, Booth clapped his hands and called out to Christine. "Okay, Pumpkin. Let's get the show on the road. We're having barbeque afterward and some cake."

Grinning, Christine waved at Hank who waved back and she began to sing. Her voice was strong and clear and if she ruptured the music along the way then neither she nor her Dad noticed. Brennan knew what a terrible singer her child was, but she was proud that Christine didn't care. Like Booth, when she wanted to sing, she sang. Her child was growing up to be a strong, confident human being and that made her so happy. She had never dreamed that her life would be so filled with love and happiness.

Ooooooooooooooooooooo

The recital had been a success as far as Booth was concerned. Everyone had clapped when it was over and that was all he had wanted from his friends. His daughter was happy and that made him happy. The barbeque had satisfied everyone and there had been enough leftovers for everyone to be able to take some home. Aubrey was still eating as he walked out the door and Brennan had found that very amusing. How a grown man could eat like that and remain skinny was truly remarkable. She envied his metabolism and so did Booth.

Christine was sitting in the kitchen playing checkers with Hank. "Mommy, I don't care that I didn't get a part in the play."

Surprised, Brennan turned from the sink to look at her daughter. "I thought you were sad that you couldn't be in the play."

Typical for a child, she had already moved on from that disappointment. "Well I was at first, but now I don't care. I would have just got a small part and no one would have noticed me, but today I got to sing for our family and everyone heard me and saw me. That was so cool, Mommy. I really liked it a lot."

Booth entered the kitchen, leaned over, placed his arms around his daughter and hugged her. "I'm glad, Sweetheart. I never got to be in school plays either and it didn't hurt me at all." Booth released her, walked around to the end of the kitchen island and held his hands up in the air. "When I want to sing I sing and you can too." Bursting out in song, Booth began to sing one of Hank's favorite songs. As he sang 'Take Me Out to the Ball Game', Brennan laughed as Hank sang along with his father, clapping loudly, in time. She was so lucky to have such a unique family.

Oooooooooooooooooooooo

Let me know what you think of my story. Thank you.


	18. Chapter 18

(Sometime in the Future)

This is a reminder that these stories are not in chronological order. I write them as I think of them. Warning: rated T for language.

I don't own Bones.

Ooooooooooooooooooooooo

The call for Brennan had come at a very inconvenient time, but her children had to come first even if she was under a lot of pressure to identify the victim of what may have been a possible serial killer. "This is Dr. Brennan."

 _Dr. Brennan, this is April Blackman. I need you to come to Day Care as soon as possible. This is about Hank._

"Is Hank alright?" A cold chill ran down Brennan's spine. "Has something happened to my son?"

 _He's fine, Dr. Brennan. I really need you to come to the Day Care center. Hank has been involved in a . . . uh, graffiti incident._

"Graffiti?" Brennan didn't want to waste her time on something as incidental as graffiti. "If Hank has drawn on something valuable I will of course have it fixed or replaced, but children are known to show off their artistic abilities and sometimes they do so in inconvenient places."

 _Dr. Brennan, graffiti may have been the wrong word to use. I really do need you to come to Day Care as soon as you can. If you can't I will contact Agent Booth._

Her husband was in the middle of a meeting with the Director of the FBI and Brennan knew that he couldn't be interrupted. This meeting was very important. "I'll be there as soon as I can. You may not contact my husband under any circumstances. He is in an important meeting and if you interrupt it I will hold you responsible for the consequences. I'm sure you won't like it."

 _No, probably not . . . I'll be waiting for you at the front entrance._

The call ended, Brennan removed her gloves and turned her gaze upon Cam. "It would seem that Hank has interrupted the tranquil setting of the Day Care Center." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm and Cam knew that her anthropologist was angry.

"I'll get Dr. Edison to help me while you're gone." Cam was under as much pressure as Brennan was and they needed the identity of their victim as quickly as possible. "Let me know if you're going to be gone for the rest of the day."

"I can assure you I won't be." Brennan walked towards the stairs leading off the platform. "I am not happy with the new manager at the Day Care Center. She is easily upset which seems a fatal flaw when managing a group of small children."

"Amen." Cam was glad her sons were older and didn't need Day Care or baby sitters. She wasn't sure she would have the patience required to deal with martinets like April Blackman. "Good luck."

Oooooooooooooooooooooo

Brennan spied the Day Care Center manager standing just inside the door and the woman seemed to be wringing her hands. A bad sign. Once in the center, Brennan shifted the strap of her purse on her shoulder. She had brought it just in case she needed to write a check or use her credit card. "Now what was so important that you insisted I leave my job and come here. I am in the middle of a very important murder case. The FBI is waiting for my input."

April hated dealing with Dr. Brennan or Agent Booth. They were very important people at the Jeffersonian and the FBI and they could be very intimidating. Still she had a job to do. "Dr. Brennan if you will come with me, I need to show you something."

As patiently as she could, Brennan remained silent and followed the manager. She didn't want to waste any more time than she needed to. As they moved towards a group of children, she spied her son sitting on the floor playing with some Legos. "Hank are you alright?"

The four year old boy turned and grinned at his mother. "Mommy." Standing he ran to her and threw his arms around her legs. "Hi Mommy."

Brennan leaned over, picked him up and placed him on her hip. "Ms. Blackman wanted me to come down and see some of your art work."

Before April could say anything, the boy held out his left arm and grinned. "I just like Daddy, Mommy."

Her gaze drawn to a black squiggle on her son's wrist, Brennan stared it for a few seconds then touched the mark with her free hand. "What did you use to mark your wrist, Hank?"

Proud of what he had done, the boy beamed. "A magic mawka . . . It like Daddy's."

Brennan sighed, leaned over and placed her son on his feet. "I'm sure your father will be thrilled. Thank you for showing it to me. You may go play now."

Happy that his mother loved his new tattoo, Hank laughed and ran back to his Legos.

Her attention now on the manager, Brennan gave the woman a very firm look. "Why did my son have access to magic markers? That seems a rather unprofessional thing to let happen."

Embarrassed, April shook her head. "They were in the desk drawer. He waited until Ms. Fisher was busy with one of the other children and chose that time to remove one of them from the desk. He drew on his wrists and unfortunately on the wrists of three other children."

"I see." Brennan knew that Hank loved her husband's Kanji tattoos. "My husband has a Kanji tattoo on each wrist. One means 'soul' and the other 'destiny'. Hank loves them and likes to trace his finger over them."

"The parents of the children with the squiggles are not going to be happy Dr. Brennan." April worried that she would be blamed. "Hank is being suspended from the Jeffersonian Day Care Center for two months. If the parents raise enough hell about this, I may have to bar him from coming back."

Brennan stared coldly at the Day Care Manager. "Day Care is supposed to protect our children not only from outsiders, but from themselves. You and Ms. Fisher have failed in your duties and to blame my son for your irresponsible actions is ludicrous. If the markers had not been accessible, Hank would not have drawn on his wrists or the wrists of his friends. The ink will wear off after a few washings. It is not a permanent tattoo."

"None the less, Hank may not come to Day Care until his two month suspension is complete." April was not going to allow Brennan to blame her for something her son had done. "Your son stole the marker. We try to watch the children, but there are many and they all require our attention."

Not impressed, Brennan called Hank back to her side. "Your incompetence worries me. I am withdrawing my son from this Day Care and I will find one that takes its duties more seriously." Her son now standing next to her, Brennan leaned over and picked up the boy. "Say goodbye Hank."

"Bye." Hank stared at his mother and smiled. "Are we going?"

"Yes, Hank. Your Aunt Angela is going to look after you for a bit this afternoon and then we are going to find you a safer Day Care Center to stay at."

April heard Brennan's criticizing words and started to wring her hands again. She knew that Dr. Brennan was a powerful figure in the Jeffersonian and she might not have her job for very long which was so unfair. She did her job well and she didn't think she was appreciated.

Ooooooooooooooooooooo

Booth had great news and he wanted to share it with his wife. As he entered the Lab he heard his youngest son call out to Angela. Curious why Hank wasn't at Day Care, he walked over to Angela's office and saw Hank standing in front of an easel waving a piece of blue chalk. "Hank."

Surprised to see his father, Hank dropped his piece of chalk on the floor and ran towards him. "Daddy!" Once he was next to Booth, he raised his hands up in the air. "Up Daddy."

Wary of the chalk on his son's hands and clothes, Booth knelt next to the boy, pulled a handkerchief from his pants pocket and began to wipe the child's hands and brushed his shirt. "Let's get you cleaned up, Tiger."

Angela heard Booth near the entrance and knew that chalk and business suits weren't compatible. Carrying a damp hand towel over to where he was, she handed it to him. "Here, this will work better."

Grateful, Booth took the damp cloth and began the process over again. Hank stood still while his father wiped his face, but squirmed when his clothes were brushed with the damp cloth. "It wet, Daddy."

Most of the chalk gone, Booth picked up his boy and kissed his cheek. "Why aren't you in Day Care, Hank?"

Proud of his art work, Hank held out his hand and turned his wrist to show his father his squiggle. "See Daddy? I gots a thing like you."

His eyes large, Booth stared at the black squiggle on his son's wrist. "Angela!"

"Hey, I didn't do that. Hank did that all on his own." Angela was an artist and if she had done it, it would have been a real Kanji. "He found a marker in Day Care and took care of that himself."

Hank nodded his head. "Do you like it Daddy?"

Not sure how to answer that question, Booth frowned. "It's nice, Tiger. Um, you really shouldn't write on your skin unless you ask me or Mommy." Booth looked at Angela. "Is this going to wash off?"

Slowly shaking her head, Angela gave him the bad news. "Not right away, but eventually."

"Great." Booth placed his son on his feet and patted his head. "Why don't you play with Auntie Angela while I go talk to Mommy."

Eager to play with the art paper, Hank ran back to the easel, picked up the chalk and continued to 'paint' a sky. Angela shrugged her shoulders and grinned at Booth. "He wants be like his Daddy."

Booth ran his hand through his hair. "Where's Bones?"

Angela pointed down the hallway. "On the platform, I think."

Striding down the hallway, Booth was soon on the platform. "Bones, what idiot let Hank have a magic marker?"

Her gaze on the body before her, Brennan continued to examine the pelvic region. "He took it from Ms. Fisher's desk when she was occupied somewhere else."

Leaning against the railing, Booth crossed his arms, his gaze upon his wife and not the rotten body. "Well, she's an idiot. You have to keep that kind of shit out of the reach of kids."

Brennan shrugged her shoulders. "He drew on the wrists of other children as well as his own wrist."

"Shit!' Booth exhaled deeply. "Now what?"

Her gaze finally upon her husband, Brennan frowned. "He has been suspended from Day Care for two months. He may be permanently banned if the parents demand it."

"So, their blaming their idiocy on our boy?" Booth was furious. "Okay, well they can shove it where the sun doesn't shine. Hank is not going back there. We can't trust those idiots. The next thing you know they might leave a knife lying around and Hank will try to play with it. Idiots!" Booth began to pace. "I knew I didn't like that new manager. She acts like my kid is a hooligan every time he gets a little loud. 'Your son needs to use his inside voice, Agent Booth.' Booth imitated April Blackman then stopped to face Brennan. "Well fuck her." He began to pace again. "My boy is four and he doesn't have an inside voice. He has a four year old voice."

Cam was fascinated. Booth reminded her of a pacing tiger. "Dr. Benoit uses 'It's a Small World Day Care'."

Booth turned to face his friend. "I'll check into it. Can you imagine telling a four year old boy that he can't be noisy when he's playing? April Blackman is an idiot."

Brennan agreed. "I feel that Hank's spirit has been stifled at the Jeffersonian Day Care. I have been displeased for the last few weeks. I informed Ms. Blackman before I left with Hank that we would not be back. I am glad you agree with me. I think he will be happier in a more positive atmosphere."

Stepping closer to Brennan, Booth kissed her cheek and walked back to the stairs. A sudden thought hit him and he stopped and turned. "Oh yeah, you're looking at the new Assistant Deputy Director of the FBI."

Happy for her husband, Brennan removed her gloves and hurried across the platform. Throwing her arms around his neck she kissed him. "Congratulations Booth. It's long overdue."

Booth placed his hands on her hips and returned her kiss. "Thanks. That means I won't be going out in the field anymore. Aubrey gets to handle all the gruesome shit now."

Kissing him once more, Brennan stepped back. "Aubrey will do an excellent job as your replacement. I am so proud of you, Booth."

Proud of his accomplishments, Booth grinned. "Thanks. I have to go . . . Angela is letting Hank play with chalk. You may want to wipe him down or maybe strip him before you let him in your car. It's blue chalk."

Concerned, Brennan shook her head. "I just had the upholstery cleaned . . .. oh well. I suppose a little chalk won't hurt anything. After all, the coke stain he created last week came out of the back seat, so I imagine chalk will too."

"That's it, Bones. Keep up those positive thoughts." Booth walked down the stairs. "He won't be a little boy forever."

Brennan sighed. "Yes, I know."

Ooooooooooooooooooooo

Let me know what you think of my story. Thank you.


	19. Chapter 19

(In the Future)

Thank you for reviewing my story. I appreciate it.

I don't own Bones.

Oooooooooooooooooo

"Dad . . . hey Dad, Christine's birthday party is coming up and I need to come up will a really cool joke I can use at her birthday party." Michael Vincent and Christine had started a duel over the summer and it was still going on. MV had started it by gluing a candy bar on Christine's bicycle seat. Christine's younger brother Hank had spent the better part of fifteen minutes trying to take it off the seat of the bike until he went in to the garage and came back with a screw driver. He removed the candy bar, but ripped the seat of the bike and left a strip of candy paper covered in melted chocolate still glued to the bike. Christine and Booth had not been happy with the joke or Hank's response, but MV had thought it was hysterical.

Christine had paid back the joke by gluing a quarter on the floor outside his bedroom door. Angela had not been very happy about the situation when the coin had finally been pried from the hardwood floor and the finish was found to be ruined. It had to be repaired and since Christine had caused the damage, Brennan had paid to have the hallway floor revarnished.

After a stern lecture by both sets of parents the pranks were toned down so that nothing was damaged. Neither child had enjoyed losing their allowances for a while. Christine had also learned that no joke was worth having to memorize one hundred words from the dictionary. Her mother had made sure that all of the words she had chosen began with 'X' and she considered that to have been the worst word list ever. Christine now knew that xerasia was defined as excessive dry hair, not that she was ever going to use that word in her entire life. She would be careful not to cause property damage from that point on.

"What did you have in mind, Buddy?" Hodgins closed the lid on the aquarium that held his latest pet, a scarlet king snake named Bob. "I don't mind helping you, but you can't break anything or cause Christine to break anything."

MV had learned that lesson well. "Of course not Dad. I just need something that will make her and her friends scream. It wasn't fair when Christine let my plated lizard out of its aquarium and I got in trouble for it. Mom was really upset and I told her that I didn't do it, but boy she didn't believe me and that just makes me mad. I want to get even for that."

"You know, Michael Vincent, sooner or later you two are going to need to stop with the jokes." Hodgins worried that their friendship was going to be damaged if they kept it up. "What if you take a step too far and you ruin your friendship with Christine? Do you really want the Booth kids to be against you? They're practically your sister and brother."

MV knew that his Dad had a point, but he needed to get even about his lizard. "I get it Dad and I will stop, but I need to get even for Christine releasing Fred. You know Mom wanted to make me give Fred away and that wasn't fair at all. I take care of my pets just like you do."

Hodgins scratched his head and thought it over. "Okay, if this is the last prank, I'll help you. You might as well go out with a bang."

"Um, Dad. I don't want to blow up anything." MV knew his Dad well and even a small explosion would probably get him grounded by his mother until he was eighteen.

"You know, you're too literal for a twelve year old kid." Hodgins shook his head. "I'm not going to make a bomb or anything. It's just a saying, sheesh . . . okay, let me think about it and I'll see what I can come up with . . . Don't tell your mother or I won't help."

MV rolled his eyes, "Are you kidding me? Mom has a terrible sense of humor."

Oooooooooooooooooo

MV carried his revenge in a plastic bag in his jacket pocket. His father had come through and the boy believed he had the best joke ever in his pocket. As he entered the Booth/Brennan house, he noticed that there was a big cake on the kitchen island and that there were a few kids in the living room eating cupcakes.

"Hello, Michael Vincent." Brennan spied the boy as he walked by the kitchen as she removed a tray of chocolate chip cookies from the oven and placed it on the counter below the island. "You can leave your present on the table near the picture window in the living room. We have games set up in the back yard and there are snacks on the bar. Uncle Booth is in the backyard barbecuing. He's grilling hot dogs, hamburgers and vegetable kabobs. I have two types of salads if you want some plant based food on your plate."

His mouth suddenly salivating, MV licked his bottom lip. "Wow that sounds great. I thought we were just getting cake and punch."

Amused, Brennan shook her head. "When have I ever thrown a party and only served food that contained empty calories?"

"Never, Aunt Temperance, never." MV looked closely at the cake and appreciated the star field design on the cake. "The cake is pretty."

"Thank you." Brennan scooped the cookies from the tray with a spatula and placed them on a plate. "As you know, Christine is interested in astronomy at the moment."

His social obligations complete, MV walked into the living room, placed his present on the table and noticed that Christine had quite a pile of presents. Next, he walked over to the bar, looked over the snacks and decided that the cupcakes looked delicious. Cautiously, he glanced around and while no one appeared to be interested in the snacks, MV removed the baggy from his jacket pocket and dumped the contents in the punch bowl. After stuffing the bag back into his pocket, he picked up a cupcake and poured a dipper of the punch into his cup. He hoped that would set up his joke and make him look innocent.

Turning, he spied his friend Christine standing near the fireplace talking to her friend, Emma. "Hey Christine, happy birthday."

Glad to see MV had come, Christine walked over to the bar and placed her hand on the boy's arm. "I'm glad you could come. It wouldn't be my birthday if you didn't come to my party. I'm sorry I got you in to trouble with your mother. Dad was mad that that happened and I promised him that I wouldn't play anymore jokes on you. It's bad that your Mom wanted to get rid of Fred. I didn't really think that joke through. Sorry."

MV heard her apology and he knew it was sincere. Having second thoughts about his joke he was about to warn Christine about the surprise in the punch when Emma walked around the bar, ladled up some punch and as it was poured into her cup she noticed an eye looking up at her. Terrified, she dropped her cup and screamed.

Christine ran around the bar to see what the problem was while MV tried to rush around in front of her to pick up the fake eyeball from the floor. Booth, who had heard the scream rushed into the living room holding a grilling fork in his hand determined to save whoever was in trouble. Brennan rushed from the kitchen worried that one of the children had somehow hurt themselves.

In the bedlam, MV squatted down in front of Emma, picked up the eyeball and blushed a deep red. "It was a joke. Sorry."

Annoyed, Christine placed her hands on her hips and shook her head. "An eyeball? That's your revenge? I told Mom you'd do something, but really Michael Vincent, I expected something more original. That's just stupid."

Now that Booth knew that his house hadn't been invaded and the kids were alright, he placed the fork on the bar and stared into the punch bowl. "How many are there?"

"Five." MV was an honest child. "My Dad made them for me." Too honest.

"I see." Booth used the ladle and scooped up the fake eyeballs and placed them in a cup. "Your Dad is in deep shit."

"Booth." Brennan didn't approve of cursing in front of minors.

Holding the cup, Booth nodded his head. "Sorry ladies and gentlemen. I meant to say that Dr. Hodgins is in deep trouble."

Glumly, MV nodded his head. "They do look real."

"Yeah." Emma was over her fright. "That's why I screamed . . . still they are kind of cool looking. Your Dad did a good job."

The other kids in the room agreed. Once the party was continued, Booth followed Brennan into the kitchen. "Okay Bones. I'm counting on you. I want you to put these in Cam's office, maybe on her desk. Use a new cup, place the eyeballs in the cup and fill it with coffee, make sure you use a lid."

"I don't understand." Brennan was confused. "How is this going to teach Hodgins a lesson? That is what you want to do, isn't it?"

"Really?" Booth leaned closer and lowered his voice. "She's going to pick up the cup. Maybe she'll drink from it or maybe she'll just open the lid and look inside to see if it's fresh or not. When she sees the eyes, who do you think she's going to blame? Not you. You only play jokes on me. Hodgins will be blamed. You see?"

"I do." Brennan laughed. "I think this will teach him a lesson. He should have never agreed to make these for Michael Vincent. They do look real . . . He did a good job creating these. Perhaps I can get him to make me some for our Halloween party this year."

Booth stared at the fake eyes. "Yeah, I don't think so. He might put explosives in the eyes to get even . . . they do look real though."

Ooooooooooooooooooo

Let me know what you think of my story. Thank you.


	20. Chapter 20

(In the Future)

I had several requests for a sequel to chapter 19. I hope you like it.

I don't own Bones.

Ooooooooooooooooooo

Cam had been called out of her office for a meeting with the Director of the Jeffersonian, Jeffrey Feight. There were a few questions he had about her budget and after a lengthy conversation, the Director had agreed to approve it.

Entering her office, she noticed her coffee cup was still sitting on her desk. Hopeful that the beverage was still hot, she picked up her cup and heard a bumping sound inside the container. Strangely, the cup also felt heavier than it should. Cautiously, she opened the lid, peered inside and miraculously she didn't drop the cup. Her hand trembling, she carefully set the cup down on the table and stared at it for a few moments. Finally, she nodded her head, walked over to her doorway and bellowed." HODGINS!"

Startled, Jack Hodgins almost dropped the beaker of sulfuric acid he was holding. Thankful that he had managed to keep a firm grip on the beaker, he placed it down on his table and rolled his wheelchair to the doorway. His name bellowed once more, he rushed his chair down the hallway to Cam's office and stopped outside of her doorway. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" Cam glared at her friend and underling. "What's wrong?" She couldn't believe he was acting so innocent.

"Yeah, what's wrong?" Hodgins was puzzled why he was being given the evil eye. "Why are you mad and what does that have to do with me?"

Her anger barely contained, Cam swiveled and marched into her office. "I don't mind a practical joke once in a while, but to use hot coffee as a medium is a reckless thing to do. I could have been scalded."

Confused, Hodgins rolled into Cam's office and saw her lift a large coffee cup from her desk and point at it. "This was a very childish thing to do."

Still not sure what was going on, Jack moved closer and took the cup from Cam. Opening the lid, his hand and arm jerked, but he managed to hold onto the cup and not spill any of the coffee. Recognizing his work, he put his finger in the beverage and found it to be barely warm. Satisfied that he wouldn't get burned he fished out one of the fake eyeballs looking at him. "First of all, the coffee is room temperature not hot and second I didn't put these in this cup . . . I will admit they're mine, but the last time I saw them, they were in a plastic bag and Michael Vincent was taking them to Christine's birthday party . . . Oh shit."

Quickly grasping what was going on, Cam nodded her head. "So, you made fake eyeballs for Michael Vincent, so he could pull a prank at Christine Booth's party? Does that seem like that was a very wise decision? Booth doesn't really have a sense of humor, not when it comes to body parts. He's more the slapstick humor kind of guy. You should have known he'd find a way to pay you back. Of course, I'm not happy that he decided to use me to get his revenge."

Glumly Hodgins nodded his head. "Except I don't think Booth has been here at all this morning. I can check with security to make sure . . . that means that this is Dr. B's doing. Which is kind of surprising. She's not really a prankster or at least I didn't think so."

"Well, this is probably Booth's doing and he just got Dr. Brennan to go along with it." Cam studied the cup and finally moved her hand to take the cup back. "This is going to take some thought . . . Don't mention it to Dr. Brennan or anyone for that matter . . . Yes, I need to think about how I'd like to handle this."

Relieved that Cam had accepted that he had no part in pranking her, Hodgins decided to give her some advice. "Well I think you should just forget about it. I don't think it would be a good idea to get into a prank war with Booth. I finally got Michael Vincent to agree to stop pranking Christine and he said she's stopping too. They've been going at it all summer and it's gotten out of hand. Angela has been unhappy with the pranks too. Just let it go."

Cam nodded her head. "You're right. It would be a terrible idea to prank Booth . . . Well, I just hope you've learned your lesson. There are some people that can't take a joke."

"Yeah, I got it." Hodgins laughed. "Still, I did do a good job with those eyeballs. They do look real."

She agreed. "They do."

Ooooooooooooooooooooooo

Aubrey walked into Booth's office and found the man wasn't there. What was there was a box of cupcakes sitting on the desk with a little card taped to the lid. 'From Bones. Congratulations'.

Salivating, the agent lifted the lid and found six perfect chocolate cupcakes with white icing sitting in two neat rows of three. Famished, he looked around, made sure no one was watching him, lifted one of the cupcakes out of the box and arranged the remaining cupcakes to prevent Booth from realizing that one of the cakes was missing.

Once he was out of the office, he walked into the break room, poured a cup of coffee, sprinkled a dash of cinnamon on top of the hot beverage then sat down at one of the tables. Carefully peeling away the paper from the cupcake he noticed how moist the rich chocolate cake looked. Eager, he took a large bite into the pastry and began to chew. To his surprise he immediately felt a hard ball in the cake and not sure what he was eating, spit out the bite onto a napkin. Much to his horror he was staring at an eyeball with a small piece missing.

Suddenly nauseous, he lunged for the trashcan and threw up. His retching drew the attention of Agent Burns as he walked by the room. Charlie entered the room and witnessed Aubrey holding the edges of the trash can, pale as a white sheet and trembling. "God, what's wrong?"

Hoping his stomach was empty, Aubrey poured some water in to a cup, gargled, spit out the fluid into the sink and turned to face the other agent. "I bit into a cupcake and found an eyeball inside. Look on the table."

Curious, Charlie moved closer to the table and found an eyeball staring at him. "Oh my . . . where did you get the cupcake? Maybe it's a message from a serial killer . . . there's a piece missing . . . I hope you didn't swallow it."

Nauseous once more, Aubrey grabbed the trash can and heaved up some liquid. Panting he wiped the back of his hand against his lips. "God, don't say that . . . the cupcakes are on Booth's desk. We need to warn him." Luckily for the agent, Charlie didn't ask him why he had taken a cupcake from Booth's desk.

Ooooooooooooooooooooooo

Rushing into Booth's office, Aubrey yelled as he witnessed Booth hold a cupcake in his hand and move it towards his mouth. "Stop, don't eat that."

Puzzled, Booth lowered the cupcake and stared at his friend. "What the hell, Aubrey. I have five cupcakes. You can have one of them if you're that desperate." Before he could lift the cake to his mouth, Aubrey grabbed it from his hand, broke it open and showed Booth an eyeball. "I uh . . . I took one of your cupcakes because I knew you wouldn't mind giving me one and when I bit into it I found one of these. Maybe a serial killer is sending you a message."

Ever helpful, Charlie added some information. "Aubrey swallowed a piece of the eyeball in his cupcake."

Placing his hand over his mouth, Aubrey fought a battle with his stomach and almost lost.

Since he recognized the eyeball, Booth picked up another cupcake, broke it apart and spotted another eyeball. After he placed the eyeball in the cupcake box, he popped a piece of the cupcake into his mouth and moaned over the rich taste of the chocolate cake and the wonderful vanilla cream cheese frosting.

Swallowing convulsively, Aubrey shook his head. "Are you nuts?" The sight of Booth licking the icing from his fingers made him want to throw up again. "That cake is contaminated . . . with eyeballs for God's sake."

Amused, Booth shook his head and picked up the eyeball in the box. Using his fingers, he squeezed, but nothing really happened. The eyeball lost its shape, but that's all. "They're fake . . . Hodgins made them. He let Michael Vincent spike Christine's birthday punch with them last Saturday. Bones and I played a joke at the Lab with them and I guess this is pay back . . . Come on, it's funny."

Charlie shook his head and left the room. He wasn't about to get involved in a joke war.

Aubrey sat down and stared at the misshapen eyeball and shook his head. "If you're going to start a joke war please leave me out of it."

Picking up another cupcake, Booth broke it open, removed the eyeball and bit into the cake. "If you hadn't taken one of my cupcakes without my permission, you wouldn't have had to deal with the payback from Hodgins." He swallowed the bite and licked some of the frosting from his finger tips. "Next time ask me, don't just take one. By the way, I knew someone had taken a cupcake. No one buys five cupcakes. Not even Bones . . . Also, I'm on a diet and Bones is not going to be sending me any cake or pie, so . . ." He popped the rest of the cupcake into his mouth and savored the rich flavor. "Delicious."

Not amused, Aubrey crossed his arms against his chest. "Are you going to pay Hodgins back?" He thought the man deserved a roasting.

"Nope." Booth laughed. "That squint can make explosives. I'm not getting into a prank war with him. I pulled my prank. He paid me back. We're done. Besides, I got 6 cupcakes out of the deal . . . well five."

Not embarrassed in the least, Aubrey sniffed. "You're supposed to be on a diet."

Holding up a cupcake, Booth smiled. "Want one?"

Swallowing hard, Aubrey stood up. "I've had one already and you're wrecking your diet." Disgusted that he had vomited over a fake eyeball, Aubrey walked back to his office and thought about how he might get a little revenge. He just had to decide whether or not it was wise to get in to a feud with a scientist. "Probably not."

Once the agent was gone, Booth called Hodgins. "I got your present, Hodgins. The only one you caught out was Aubrey."

 _What present?_

"The cupcakes with the eyeballs in them. The cake is delicious, so thanks."

 _I didn't send you any cupcakes. The last time I saw those eyeballs they were in Cam's office . . . Oh shit!_

Booth nodded his head. "I thought so."

 _Booth . . . Booth what are you going to do?_

Giving Hodgins a decidedly evil laugh, Booth replied, "Nothing . . . I'm not going to do anything at all."

 _Shit!_

 _Ooooooooooooooooo_

Let me know what you think of my story. Thank you.


	21. Chapter 21

(In the future)

Thank for your continued interest in my stories. I appreciate it.

I don't own Bones.

Oooooooooooooooooo

The invitation came in a bright pink envelope and was addressed to Ms. Caroline Julian and Marcellus and Keith Miller. Surprised that he and his brother had been invited, Marcellus was quick to tell Caroline that they couldn't go to child's birthday party.

"And why not?' Caroline glared at the young man that she had taken under her wing two years earlier. "Christine Booth is my niece and you've been invited to her party along with your brother. Why do you want to disrespect her and me like that?"

Marcellus tried to use logic. "She isn't really your niece and she's seven years old. I don't think it's appropriate for a guy my age to go to a little girl's birthday party."

"Appropriate?" Caroline gave her foster son a baleful look. "What exactly do you think is going to happen at a seven-year old's birthday party?"

"Um . . . little girl stuff?" The teenager was clearly going to lose the argument, but he fought to the end. "Come on, Ms. Julian. I'm too old for party's like that."

Disappointed, Caroline shook her head. "Well, if you don't think it's important enough to go to my niece's birthday party then by all means don't go. Just because she came to your birthday party and gave you an Xbox One and some games I guess that doesn't mean you have to go to her party . . . That little girl wants you at her party along with your brother Keith, but if she isn't important . . . if I'm not important then by all means, stay home and play games on that really nice birthday present she gave you. I'm sure her parents will understand. I won't, but they might."

He knew he was trapped. "Well . . . um, I guess I can go, but I don't have any money for a present and it would be awful if I showed up and didn't have a present for her."

"Not a problem, Cher'." Caroline knew she had won. "I'll buy the gift and you and Keith can give it to her. She'll love it . . . just make sure you pay attention to the dress code. Everyone is supposed to wear pink. That means you and Keith too."

"Pink?" His voice almost squeaked as he grabbed the invitation from Caroline's hand and read it. "I don't own any pink clothes . . . no way . . ."

Caroline arched a brow and smiled. "Don't worry, I'll fix that little problem too. Just you and Keith be here on Saturday morning at ten and I'll drive us to the party."

Resigned that he was going to a child's party whether he wanted to go or not, Marcellus exhaled deeply. "Fine, but I bet Keith says he has to work."

"I don't think so, Cher'. I asked him what his work schedule was yesterday and he's off Saturday. He's going too and you're both going to pass a good time."

Oooooooooooooooooooooo

Saturday came and Caroline and her foster sons were at the front door of the party girl a little early. Marcellus held a present for Christine while his brother glared at the back of Caroline's head.

Aware that the young men didn't want to go to the party, Caroline spoke before she knocked on the door. "Behave. This isn't going to kill you. I promise we won't stay for more than an hour."

Grateful for that Marcellus looked down at his pink t-shirt. "This is dumb."

Before Caroline could reply the door opened and Booth waved them in. "Hey, glad you could come. We have sandwiches and chili on the bar along with hamburgers, pizza and other stuff. Help yourself. We're going to have cake in a little while. If you aren't hungry yet, I'm grilling some steaks, vegetable kabobs and corn and the adults are going to eat at around 11:30.

Marcellus stared at Booth's bright pink shirt and smirked. "Nice shirt."

Amused, Booth laughed. "Thanks. Someday when you have kids, you'll understand. In the meantime, just relax. Be secure in your manhood. I am." Once his guests were in the house, he walked over to the kitchen to check on his wife. "Marcellus and Keith wore pink shirts. I didn't think they'd do it. Good for them."

Glad that all of their guests were wearing pink, Brennan smiled. "I will be happy when Christine moves out of this phase although you look very attractive in pink."

Booth practically preened. "Thanks. You look pretty good yourself." He admired the light pink cotton shirt with white lace collar and white pearl buttons. "In fact, you're beautiful."

Pleased with the compliment, Brennan picked up a pitcher of lemonade and pointed at the package of cups. "Thank you. Everyone is here except Aubrey. He called and said he's on the way."

"Good." Booth carried the cups over to the island and placed them next to the pitchers of ice tea and lemonade.

Oooooooooooooooooooo

Booth was outside checking on his grilled vegetable kabobs and the steaks he was doing for the adults. They planned to eat in a few minutes and he needed to make sure everything was ready.

"Hey, Booth. When do we eat?"

Booth turned to see his friend Aubrey standing behind him. The man was wearing a rose-colored cowboy shirt and black jeans. "In a couple of minutes. You can go tell everyone we're ready to eat while I carry the food to the picnic table . . . Nice shirt."

"Thanks." Aubrey ran his left hand down the front of his shirt. "I bought this for a singing competition in college. It still fits." He was proud of his physique. He worked out and he thought his body was just perfect. "Your shirt looks interesting."

His t-shirt was new and it fit Booth like a glove. "Bones found it in the same store she bought her shirt. I think it's a little tight, but Bones likes it, so what the hell." It did show off his muscles and that wasn't a bad thing when your wife had the hots for you.

The children had been eating since they had arrived, but the adults were waiting for what Booth had cooking on the barbeque pit. While the children played in the living room and in the backyard, the adults sat down to a delicious lunch. Marcellus and Keith had waited with Caroline for lunch, unwilling to eat hamburgers when steak was being offered. Once they had their plates in front of them, the young men waited for Booth to give a quick grace and then started eating.

Since their hour was up, Caroline glanced at her watch before she began to eat. "Oh Cher', I promised we would leave after we had been here for an hour. Do you and Marcellus want to leave now?"

His cheeks stuffed with steak, Keith shook his head. Marcellus was quick to shake his head too. "No, that would be rude. We're staying. We have to see the presents Christine got."

Barely keeping her laughter in, Caroline started to slice up her steak. "Vous etes si facile . . . Booth good as usual."

Acknowledging her compliment, Booth raised his empty fork. "Thanks."

After lunch was finished, everyone moved into the living room to watch Christine open her presents. So that Hank wouldn't feel left out, Brennan handed her son a small present and smiled. Excited the boy squealed and pawed at the wrapping paper while his mother helped him unwrap a stuffed toy tiger. "Tigga! . . . tank you." Grabbing the tiger from his mother, Hank moved over to where his father was and Booth picked him up. "Hey, a tiger for my Tiger."

In the meantime, Christine started unwrapping her presents, careful to thank each guest for the present before moving on to the next gift. Soon she got to a pink birthday bag with a white bow and when she opened it she squealed. "Oh, thank you Marcellus. Thank you, Keith." Christine held up a pink Treasure Keeper Steel Safe. "Look Daddy, I have a safe just like you do." So happy to get such a great present, she rushed over to where the Millers were standing and hugged each one. "Thank you."

Surprised that the child liked the toy, Marcellus hugged her back. "Well, I'm glad you like it. Keith and I knew that you wanted a safe just like your Daddy has and it's pink too."

Unable to stop herself, Caroline rolled her eyes and muttered. "Merde."

Christine raced over to where her father stood and held up her present so he could see it. Taking it from her, Booth studied the front of the safe. "This is real nice, Christine. I wonder how they knew that you wanted a safe."

Wisely, the girl laughed. "Because they're my friends, Daddy."

Keith ran his hand down his pink covered chest and nodded his head. "Damn straight."

Oooooooooooooooooooooooo

Let me know what you think of my story. Thank you.

A/N: Pass a good time is Louisiana means have a good time or have fun. Vous etes si facile means you're so easy. Merde is a curse word.


	22. Chapter 22

(Sometime in the future)

Thank you for your continued interest in Bones fanfiction. There are still fanfic authors writing Bones stories because we love it and we're glad you do too.

I don't own Bones.

Oooooooooooooooooo

His friends had decided to have a contest. Who could drink the most beer? The rules were simple. Tim Monroe's older brother would buy the beer, but they had to pay for it. Everyone that participated in the contest would drink as much beer as possible in a certain time frame and once that time was up, it was up.

After he had bought the beer, Bobby had driven the boys out to the local high school football stadium where they would have their contest. He had made each boy promise to let him drive them home afterward, after all he didn't want any of them to get hurt or killed. This was just an introduction to adulthood and he wanted to make it was as safe as possible.

Once they were under the bleachers, sitting in a circle, Bobby placed several six packs of beer in the center of the circle. He had no intention of drinking any beer himself, after all he was the designated driver. He had bought a 24 oz. bottle of Coke, a large bag of chips and the latest copy of 'Hot Rod' magazine. He placed a lawn chair next to his car and kept an eye on the boys just to make sure nothing bad happened. He considered himself to be a great brother and he wanted his brother Tim and the boy's friends to have a little fun in a safe environment.

Hank had never tasted beer before and he was eager to try it. His father and mother drank beer and they seemed to enjoy it. They also drank liquor, but he was sure he wasn't ready for the hard stuff yet. His sister had told him about his father's father being an abusive drunk and he was going to make sure that never happened to him. His parents drank in moderation and so would he.

Once the contest began and it was Hank's turn, he popped open a can of beer and swallowed his first taste. Unfortunately, he wasn't allowed to savor the taste of the beer since his friends were urging him to drink faster. The beer kind of tasted bad as far as he was concerned, but if his parents drank it, then he could learn to like it. Hank wanted to be just like his parents.

After his first can, the beer seemed to be easier to drink as he moved onto the second can then the third. Before he got to the bottom of the third can, he let out a loud belch that his friends thought was hysterical. Grinning, he raised the can to his lips to finish it, but was interrupted by a siren and flashing lights. Stunned, he placed the can down on the ground and stared at his friends as they all stood up and tried to run away. Two of them were too drunk and fell to the ground where they stayed, one of them throwing up. The two boys who were still sober, moved through the bleachers and were soon out of sight.

Bobby who was standing next to his car, held his hands up as once and turned to face one of the approaching police officers. He knew he was in trouble, but he was prepared to take it like a man. If he hadn't been, he wouldn't have helped his brother with the contest in the first place. "Good evening, Sir."

Pushing Bobby against the car, the officer patted down the young man then turned him to face him. "What are you doing out here?"

Officer Miller who had approached one of the sick boys, leaned over him and tsked. "It will only get worse." Standing up, she moved over to where Hank was sitting and stared down at him. "What's your name, Boy?"

His mind a little fuzzy, Hank shook his head as if to clear it and replied. "Henry Joseph Booth, but my friends call me Hank. My Dad calls me Tiger sometimes."

The officer rubbed her chin and tried not to grin. "I see, Henry." She leaned over, placed her hand under his arm and helped him stand. "And how old are you?"

His cheeks burning with embarrassment, Hank stared at the toes of his shoes. "Sixteen."

"I see." Miller had seen this before and she wondered about the boy's parents. "You do know it's illegal to drink alcohol at your age?"

Slowly nodding his head, Hank sighed. "My Dad is going to be mad at me. I just wanted to try it. I'm going to be an adult soon and I thought I should find out what beer tastes like . . . to be honest it tastes like something rotten. I don't think I like it, although, it might be the brand. My Dad says Mom's favorite beer tastes like earwax."

She wanted to laugh, but the situation wasn't that funny. "I'm going to have to take you and your friends downtown. We'll call your parents from there."

Glumly, the boy nodded his head. "Okay . . . I wasn't going to drive or anything. I promised my Dad and Mom that I would never drive drunk . . . Course, I don't have a car right now. Dad says I don't need one . . . I borrowed his car once, he owns a Mustang. It broke down on me and my Dad found out. Boy did I get in trouble . . . I guess I'm going to be punished worse this time."

Alarmed, Miller placed her hand on the boy's arm. "Did your father beat you?"

"Never." Hank was shocked at the idea. "My Dad and Mom have never hit me or my sister. What's wrong with you? My parents would never hurt me . . . Whoa, I can't believe . . ."

"Whoa, just whoa." Apparently, the boy wasn't being abused after all. "I'm sorry if I made you mad. I just needed to make sure you're okay . . . Come on, you and your friends have to come with me and Officer Stanton . . . Do you feel sick? I don't want you barfing in my car."

Hank shook his head. "Nah . . . maybe . . . nah."

Oooooooooooooooooooo

Booth and Brennan entered the police station trying to find their son. Once they were assured that their son was at the station, they sat down and waited for him.

"They said bail, Bones." Booth wasn't sure if he was angry or not. Hank had been caught drinking beer and had been charged with trespassing at the high school and public intoxication. The boy was sixteen and curious, he knew that, but drinking beer at sixteen wasn't acceptable. He had been putting off talking to Hank about how alcoholism ran in the family for too long. He had given the talk to the other kids on their seventeenth birthday, but maybe that was just too late.

"I know. I have money in my purse. If I need more, I'll call Angela." Brennan knew that her son was moving through a rite of passage and that most young men did foolish things before they became an adult. "At least he wasn't drunk driving and Tim's brother was supervising their experiment.

Booth crossed his arms against his chest. "Parker didn't do this and neither did Christine as for Bobby Monroe . . . I can't believe he thought he was doing the right thing."

"Bobby is still young, Booth." Brennan wasn't trying to defend Bobby Monroe, but she was grateful that the older boy had set up the experiment in such a way as to protect the younger boys from harm. "He made a mistake. At least he made sure that the boys were in a safe place."

Angry, he stood up. "Are you protecting Bobby? He shouldn't have bought beer for minors. What he did was wrong."

"Yes, what he did was wrong, but I am grateful he protected Hank and the other boys during their initial foray into drinking and he chose beer instead of hard liquor." Brennan had feared that Hank would try drinking alcohol in much more dangerous circumstances someday, she felt a sense of gratefulness towards Bobby even if her husband didn't.

"This is my fault. I should have talked to him about my father and Jared." He was so afraid that his children would become addicts. His father, his brother, himself, all addicts. It worried him a lot. "I will talk to him tomorrow. He needs to protect himself."

Pulling on his arm, Brennan coaxed her husband to sit down. "We will both talk to him and this is not your fault. Hank is metaphorically spreading his wings. Parker and Christine spread their wings at around this age. Christine and Parker didn't drink alcohol at this age, but they did other things. Christine got numerous speeding tickets and when she was sixteen she chose one weekend to drive to New York with one of her friends to see a play. Parker took up rock climbing one summer and broke his arm because he was reckless and untrained. They were testing the boundaries of adulthood. They were testing their independence and I suppose they were testing us and Rebecca. I am sure they did things we will never know about and I for one am grateful. They are fine, independent adults and Hank will be too. He just wants to hurry adulthood along a little faster than he should."

She made sense and Booth felt better. Maybe he wasn't the terrible father he feared he was. "Yeah?"

At that moment, Hank was escorted into the room. "Dad, Mom . . . I'm sorry."

Booth stood up and held his arms wide open towards his son. "Come here, Hank." He hugged the boy and then passed him onto Brennan who kissed the boy. "We're going to have a serious talk about this tomorrow. For tonight? I'm glad you're okay."

Surprised, the boy kissed his mother's cheek and turned to face his father. They weren't behaving like he had thought they would. "I'm not in trouble?"

A sardonic laugh was Booth's answer.

Brennan patted the boy's shoulder. "Of course you are. Why would you think you weren't in trouble?"

Hank gave her a sad smile. "Wishful thinking?" He dreaded to hear what his punishment was going to be. They were probably going to keep him home this summer and not allow him to fly to England to see his brother. "Are you going to punish Parker because I made a mistake?" Maybe he could head that off at the pass, by guilting them.

"Stop." Booth slowly shook his head. "Do you forget who you're talking to? You can't guilt me like that and not your mother either. You will be punished and if that means no trip then that means no trip. Your Mom and I have to talk about it. You know your mother hates psychology, so don't try any of that reverse psychology bullshit on her or me. "Get me?"

"Yes Sir." And he did. Well, that was okay. His parents loved him and they wouldn't be too rough on him. They never were.

Ooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Let me know what you think of my story. Thank you.


	23. Chapter 23

(In the Future)

Thank you for reviewing my story.

I don't own Bones.

Ooooooooooooooooooo

"But Dad, Emma got the tickets from her brother as a birthday present." Christine was trying to get her father to drive her and Emma to New York City to see a play. "Emma's parents are in Paris and her brother can't take us because of National Guard this weekend. Mom is working on some old bones, so that leaves you . . . I'll pay you to drive us to the play."

"Really?" Booth was starting to get very irritated with his daughter. "I told you Hank has a hockey game this Saturday. It's his first game. Why should I make him miss it because you want to see a play? You can see that play next weekend or the week after."

Her frustration was growing by the second. "Why is Hank's game more important that taking me somewhere? You're just showing favoritism."

Furious, Booth stepped back and placed his hands in his pockets. "Is that right? So, chaperoning your skating party last Saturday was nothing? Paying for ten teenagers to skate and all that food you ate was just for kicks? You don't think I really don't do anything for you? Why is it that what you want to do is more important than what Hank wants to do? Am I only supposed to do favors for you?"

She had lost the argument and she knew it. "It's just one game for goodness sake. He doesn't really like hockey anyway. Emma and I are supposed to meet up with some friends and we're all going to sit together during the play. Next week is too late. We'll miss all the fun."

Calmly, Booth shook his head. "You are going to Hank's hockey game on Saturday morning and I may . . . may take you to the play next week. It will depend upon how you behave this week. You're acting too much like a spoiled brat instead of the adult you almost are."

Her eyes cold, Christine straightened her spine and lifted her chin. "I am 16 years old and in some societies, that is an adult. I am not acting like a spoiled child. Those tickets are expensive and Emma wants to make sure we get the most out of the play. You just want to control everything I do. You want me to be your little girl for the rest of your life."

Rolling his eyes, Booth removed his hands from his pocket. "That's right. I don't want you to grow up. I want to have to drive you everywhere and pay for everything until I die of old age . . . Your Mom and I have spoiled you too much. You can wait one week to see the play, but if you keep pushing me, you'll never get to see it . . . it's time you grew up, Christine. The world doesn't revolve around you. This is a family. We share. We did the skate party last week for you and this weekend is Hank's first hockey game. If you can't support your brother, then you can stay home and I mean stay home, you can't go anywhere until I get back. I'm going to be at that hockey game and your mother is going to finish her contractual obligations with the Peruvian government, so you can do the laundry. Be useful . . . We all have obligations. The sooner you get that in your head the better for everyone."

"Fine. I'll stay home." Christine sighed. "You could get Uncle Jack to take Hank to the game."

Booth shook his head. "Hank deserves to have his family in the stands cheering him on. If you can't be there for your brother then I feel sorry for you, but I will be there."

Ooooooooooooooooooooo

He picked her up at the Lab and waited for Brennan to buckle in before he said anything. "Angela is going to keep Hank until we get back . . . the game wasn't over. His coach is pretty angry about the situation, but Hank understands. He's worried about his sister more than the game."

"Well, I don't understand the situation." Brennan had been on the verge of completing the identification of the two bodies that the Peruvian government had contracted her to identify and now she was on the way to Cecil County, Maryland and her job was incomplete. "Why wasn't she with you at the hockey game?"

His eyes on the road, Booth moved around a slow moving tractor trailer and moved back into the right lane. "She wanted me to take her to New York to see a play. I told her that wasn't happening since this was Hank's first hockey game and she decided to stay home . . . She knew about the tickets since last Tuesday, but she waited until Saturday morning to say anything. Like I was supposed to drop everything and take her to New York. She stole my Mustang and she and Emma were supposed to meet up with some of their friends at the play this evening. A Sheriff's deputy in Cecil County pulled her over for a burned out tail light and when he checked her driver's license he saw it was a learner's permit . . . She stole my car, Bones and defied me by leaving the house when I told her to stay home."

"I don't understand how she thought this was alright." Brennan hugged herself. "Did she think we wouldn't notice she was gone, that your car was gone? This is so unlike her. Normally she's more rational than this . . . isn't she?"

Booth had had time to think it over and he thought he knew the answer. "Boys . . . those friends Emma and Christine wanted to meet up with at the play are probably boys . . . she's changing from a little girl in to a woman and she's filled with raging hormones . . . either that or she's just decided to do what she wants and to hell with the rest of us . . . This reminds me too much of the stunts Jared pulled when he was a teenager."

Brennan was having none of that. "Booth, please don't transfer the sins of your brother to your daughter . . . She's sixteen, independent and the transition from child to adult is a difficult one . . . she has made a mistake and she will be punished, but that doesn't mean she is going to be like Jared."

"God I hope not." He worried about the Booth's propensity for addiction and that made him fear for his kids, but he knew he had a lot more to worry about at the moment. "Our kids are smart, independent, head strong and I'm proud of that, but that also means they're going to test us . . . we just have to get through to them that they need to be responsible and for every decision they make there are repercussions, good or bad."

"When we pick up the girls, I want them to go back with me while you drive your Mustang back." Brennan wanted to talk to her daughter and she didn't want Booth around when she did it.

Oooooooooooooooooooo

Christine and Emma walked into the room and found Booth and Brennan waiting for them. "I am so sorry." Christine glanced at Emma. "I really am sorry."

Booth shook his head and walked over to where his daughter and her friend were standing. Pulling Christine into a hug, he didn't say anything. He was relieved to see she was fine. Releasing her, he patted Emma's arm. "We've paid your bail, Christine. We're going to take you back home, but you have a court appearance in a few weeks, so we'll be back . . . Emma, you didn't do anything wrong, legally, so you don't have to come back . . . morally is a different story."

"Thank you, Sir." Emma knew she wouldn't be getting away with anything. Once her parents and brother heard about what happened, they'd probably make sure she never stayed home by herself again. "I'm sorry Mr. Booth . . . Dr. Brennan. We should have waited for Rick to take us to the play next week."

"You should be sorry. You both could have been killed. Christine has only been driving for three months and not without adult supervision." Booth wasn't in the best of moods. "We can go home. You girls will ride back with Bones. I have to go find a tail light for my Mustang before I can drive back home." He planned to take his time driving back to the District. He was angry and he wanted to make sure he was calmer when he got home. This was not how he had wanted to spend his Saturday.

Ooooooooooooooooooooo

They had just left Elkton when Brennan cleared her throat. "What your father didn't tell you was that he talked the Sheriff out of charging you with auto theft, Christine. Booth insisted he had given you permission in the past to drive the Mustang although not to New York. The Sheriff let it go, so you are being charged with driving without adult supervision with a learner's permit and a broken tail light on the car. This situation could have been much worse."

Christine hunched down and felt her cheeks burning. She had thought driving back with her mother would be easier. She had been wrong. "I made a mistake and I'm sorry."

"No . . . using salt instead of sugar when baking a cake is a mistake. Stealing a car and driving it to New York is theft and reckless endangerment. You are not experienced enough to be on the road without adult supervision." Brennan was very disappointed in her daughter. "Emma, you should have known better too . . . Booth says this is about boys. Is it?"

"No . . . no." Christine was mortified. "I mean we were going to meet a couple of boys we've been talking to online, but it's safe. We were going to meet them at the play and that's all. We aren't stupid."

Brennan sighed. "Apparently you are if you were meeting strangers is a large city without letting your family know. Your father and I have seen what happens when young trusting girls or boys meet strangers. It could end up badly. You could have been raped or murdered . . ."

"Mom, oh my God. Emma and I have been talking to Harry and Ryan for months." Christine couldn't believe her mother thought she was so stupid. "They aren't murderers or kidnappers."

"You hope they aren't." Brennan knew that she would have to get Angela to check Christine's history on her computer and have Booth check on Harry and Ryan. "You clearly didn't think anything through. You meant to do what you wanted to do and damn the consequences. You left our home even though your father told you you couldn't. You took his car and you drove your friend on highways you are not familiar with. How were you going to explain your absence and the absence of the car?"

Christine cleared her throat. "I was going to call you this afternoon and tell you that I was at Emma's and I was going to stay overnight." It seemed like a good plan at the time.

"And you didn't think your father would drive to Emma's to check on his car and you?" Clearly her daughter wasn't using her considerable intelligence. "This is all very disappointing, Christine . . . Emma . . . Perhaps Booth and I aren't very good parents. We thought we were, but perhaps we aren't . . . We try to give you what you want, but that isn't always possible. We never hit you in anger. Booth and I are very careful how we punish you. We want you to learn from your mistakes, not just punish you . . . Perhaps you think we are terrible parents like Booth's father or my father and you think you have a right to defy us and break the law . . . Are we that terrible?"

Christine didn't want to talk about her grandfathers. Her father's father had been an abusive monster and Max had been no saint. "No of course not. You guys are the best. I'm lucky you're my Mom and Dad is my father . . . I just wanted to go see the play and I thought Dad was being mean . . . not mean like his father, okay? Just controlling. You know he can be a control freak . . . I just wanted to see the play with my friends."

"And now you won't see the play at all." Brennan didn't feel like she was getting through and it made her feel inadequate. "Your father and I will have to talk over what your punishment will be, but Christine . . . remember Uncle Jared. He was irresponsible and rarely took responsibility for anything he did. You know what happened to him. He was murdered and his body was burned to try to cover up who he was and how he died. His irresponsibility almost got your father killed. You've seen the scar on his stomach. He almost died Christine. It had been a very close thing and it was all because of your Uncle Jared . . . Think about that and tell me that isn't the life you want for yourself."

Emma sat in the backseat horrified at what she was hearing. Christine cringed and finally started to cry. "I'm not going to be like Uncle Jared, Mom. That isn't me. I'm sorry for what I did and I won't do it again. I'm sorry."

Satisfied for the moment, Brennan nodded her head. "I accept your apology. Now you have to convince your father that you won't do this again. He is very disappointed in you. He's afraid that you might be following Jared's path."

"Well I'm not." Christine pulled a tissue from the box on the console and blew her nose. "I'm not a loser like he was."

Ooooooooooooooooooooo

She waited in the front yard for her father to come home. When he finally arrived, she waited for him to pull his Mustang into the garage, lock the garage door and walk towards the front door. Unable to wait any longer she raced across the walkway to her father and threw her arms around her father's chest. "I'm sorry, Dad. I really am. You're right I was acting like a brat and I just didn't see it. I do now."

He placed his arms around his daughter and hugged her. "You scared your mother and me today Christine. Anything could have happened to you and we may have never seen your or Emma again." Booth released her and lifted her chin up so he could look at her worried face. "Growing up is hard, I know, believe me. There's these rules that you have to follow and you think you're too old for them, but Honey we all have to follow rules. Even your mother and I have to follow rules. No one can escape them. You need to think things through before you do whatever you plan to do. You have to take responsibility for your actions and today I didn't see you even trying."

"Dad, I'm not your brother Jared, okay?" Christine wanted her father to see that. "I did a really stupid thing and I'm sorry. I know I could be in worse trouble than I am. I know that . . . I'm not going to grow up and be Jared. I won't do that."

Booth hoped his daughter meant what she was saying. "At least you're aware of what can happen if you live your life like you don't care what happens. You're sixteen years old and like Pops told me once, it's time to put away childish things. If you want to be treated like an adult then try to act like one . . . Your brother didn't get to play the entire game today, but he didn't care about that. He was worried about you. You owe him an apology."

"I know and I already apologized." Christine had seen the worried look on her brother's face when Angela had brought him home and knew that her stunt had hurt him as well as their parents. "I'll make it up to him. I promise."

"Good." Booth placed his arm around his daughter's shoulders. "Okay, let's go inside. I'm hungry."

She knew that she had made a huge mistake and she thanked God she had such caring parents. "I love you Dad."

"I love you too, Monkey."

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Let me know what you think of my story.


	24. Chapter 24

A/N: I had some requests for a sequel for chapter 23. I hope this what you wanted.

Thank you for reviewing my story. I appreciate it.

I don't own Bones.

Oooooooooooooooooooooo

Angela had checked the history on Christine's computer and what she found was just a little disturbing. Before she had gone through the history, Brennan had given her what information she had managed to get out of her daughter. Two boys named Harry Sullivan and Ryan Patterson had met Christine and Emma through Instagram. Some pictures had been posted and soon they were emailing and messaging each other. This lasted for three months until Emma had mentioned the tickets to the play in New York. The boys had thought it would be a great time to meet and had asked the girls to drive up to New York the next weekend. They had all agreed to meet at the play with the boys promising to take them out to dinner after the play. Their treat. Angela had accessed all the emails that had been exchanged between the four young people and she thought the boys had been very manipulative.

Angela had also found that Christine had made reservations for a hotel room in downtown, New York. Apparently the two friends had planned to stay overnight and would come back the next day. On a hunch, she had checked and found reservations made in the same hotel on the same floor for Harry and Ryan. This had sounded alarm bells in her head and she started to track down the boys. What she found made her realize that the girls may have had a close call and they didn't seem to realize it.

Ooooooooooooooooooo

Emma and Christine looked a little nervous as they entered the interview room on the fourth floor of the Hoover building. Angela had picked them up from school and had driven them to the Hoover. Spying Booth and Aubrey sitting on one side of the table as they entered the room, Emma cleared her throat. "Are we still in trouble?" She didn't know what was going on and she was frightened.

Christine was nervous and sat down across from her father. Staring at Angela who sat at the end of the table, she suspected that this had something to do with her aunt's search on her computer. "Well? What did you find out about Ryan and Harry?"

Booth flipped open a folder, picked up two photos and placed them on the table in front of the young women. "These two guys are Harry Sullivan and Ryan Patterson. Your dates for the play."

"They weren't our dates. We were . . ." Christine stopped talking. Both Booth and Aubrey were staring at her in a way that made her feel very uncomfortable. "Alright . . . they look okay to me."

"Harry is twenty-two years old." Booth tapped the next photo with his index finger. "And Ryan is twenty-four . . . Not boys, men."

Emma was surprised. "But they said they were both nineteen."

"Wait a minute." Aubrey was a little surprised. "You two are sixteen years old and you thought it was okay to date someone who was nineteen and in college?"

"That's just three years. What's the big deal." Christine didn't understand her uncle's question. "Dad is five years older that Mom."

Clearing his throat, Booth vowed to stay calm during this conversation. "You are considered a minor at age 16. Ryan and Harry are over 21 which makes them adults. In quite a few states it's illegal for minors to have sex with an adult 21 and over. In the case of New York, if you had sex with either man it would be considered rape. Harry and Ryan could go to prison."

"Dad! Oh my God!" Her father had never talked to her like this before and she found it embarrassing. "We were not going to have sex with Ryan and Harry."

"I think they planned on it though." Angela opened up her laptop, logged in, entered a file and then motioned for the girls to come where she was. "I need you to see this . . . We were all concerned that you were meeting strange men in New York, so I did some checking and your boyfriends made reservations at the same hotel you did on the same floor for the same day." Emma stopped and returned back to her chair. She felt sick and wished she could go home. Christine moved closer to Angela, looked at the reservations and returned to her chair.

Booth picked up a sheet of paper and started to read. "Harry and Ryan attend the University of New Haven in Connecticut."

"But they said they're going to Columbia University." This was starting to sound terrible. "They said they were studying law."

He felt pity for his daughter and her friend, but at the moment he had to be as professional as possible. This conversation was being recorded and he needed to make sure that nothing that happened or was said was questionable. He meant to use this interview to go after the boyfriends or at least try. "They're enrolled in the Chemistry program at their university . . . Whose idea was it for you to meet up with them in New York City?"

Christine pursed her lips, glanced at Emma and provided the information. "Harry suggested it, but we all thought it was a cool idea."

"Can you tell us what your plan was, exactly?" Aubrey was furious that the two young ladies had taken such a dangerous risk, but he remained calm. Scaring the girls wouldn't help the situation at all. "You wanted your father to take you to the play at first. Was that part of the plan?"

"It was part of my plan." Christine thought she had covered every contingency. "I wanted Dad to drive us to New York and drop us off at the play. I made a reservation for a hotel room and I thought he could stay there while Emma and I met Harry and Ryan and we all went to the play. Then when the play was over, the boys were going to take us to dinner and then I was going to get Dad to take us home. We didn't think he'd want to stay in New York, but if he did the room has two beds. Emma and I could sleep on one and Dad could sleep on the other one. I was going to pay for the room." It seemed like a great plan.

"Did you tell Harry about your plan?" Booth wanted to know everything.

Christine shook her head. "No. We just told him we'd find a way to come up on Saturday and we'd meet them in front of the theater."

Angela felt a little sick. The plan sounded like a good one, but so many things could have gone wrong and if their backup plan had worked, it probably would have gone horribly wrong. She had done some crazy things when she was growing up, but not until she was out from under the watchful eye of her father when she turned eighteen and had inherited her mother's estate. It hadn't been much, but it had paid for college and an apartment which was important to Angela. She didn't want her father to control what she did. She loved her independence and he'd accepted it. She had been sexually active since she was sixteen, but had been very careful who she slept with. Someone always knew when she was going on a date and with whom. Her father had insisted on it since there were a lot of hangers on at concerts.

Emma was now starting to realize that she and Christine had taken a risk that they shouldn't have. She felt like a fool and she didn't like the feeling. "Mr. Booth, do you really think Harry and Ryan were planning . . ." She couldn't continue. The boys they thought of as friends and yes, boyfriends were not who they thought they were. "I mean . . . do you think they wanted to hurt us?"

He wasn't sure, but it seemed that way to him. "I think so, Emma . . . Over the years, I've had to deal with situations like this one, where a young person wasn't lucky like you two were and they were raped and killed. Their bodies dumped in the trash or left in abandoned buildings or fields." Booth really hated to talk to the girls like this, but he needed them to understand just how dangerous the situation was. "You talked to these guys for three months and you thought you knew everything about them, but it's obvious that they were lying to you from the start . . . We're not trying scare you. We're interviewing you to determine if Harry and Ryan committed a crime. We need all the facts to make sure before we can proceed." Booth saw Brennan and Emma's brother Rick were standing outside the door behind the girl's. They had been told to stay in his office, but obviously the interview was taking too long for them. He waved them into the room. "I think we have all we need and we can end this interview."

Once Rick was in the room, he touched Emma's shoulder. "You okay Honey?"

Emma felt like crying, but she didn't want to embarrass herself. "I'm okay, Rick. I just feel foolish and very stupid." Standing, she hugged her brother, brushed her finger under eyes and smiled. "I want to go home now."

After the siblings left, Aubrey and Angela stood up and left the room to Booth and his family. Brennan sat down next to her daughter and placed her hand over her child's hand. "As you can see the situation was very serious . . . Perhaps now you understand that what you did was wrong and why we were upset."

Embarrassed, Christine nodded her head. "I was so stupid and I could have got Emma killed. I don't know if I could have lived with myself if she had got hurt because I wanted to go the play with Harry and Ryan. I just thought they were so nice and Emma was excited to see the play . . . I am so sorry. This is all my fault. Please don't blame Emma. She's so sweet and you know she'll do whatever I say because we're best friends. I think that's too much power over someone's life. I could have got her killed." She sobbed, turned, placed her arms around her mother and cried. Booth wanted to comfort his daughter, but he sat where he was and let Brennan do it. He knew that sometimes a child really needed their mother.

After a while, Christine stopped crying and Booth gave her a box of tissues to wipe her face and blow her nose. The child was calmer and he was glad that they had got through to her. "We aren't trying to stifle your independence Christine. We just need you to understand that the world can be a dangerous place and you have to look at situations from all sides before you make a decision. We want you to be strong and independent, but sometimes you have to back off from a situation. In this case, your original plan wasn't a bad one. If Hank hadn't had his first hockey game and your Mom hadn't been under contract to work for the Peruvian government on an identification, I could have taken you. I would have met Harry and Ryan and I could have accessed the situation. But your plan B was really bad and you made some bad decisions . . . Your Mom and I have talked it over and we've come up with how you're going to be punished."

Brennan placed her hand on Christine's arm. "Your father will drive you back to Maryland for your date in court. He checked and you're just going to be fined. You will have to pay the fine. You will have use some of the money you inherited from your grandfather. Second, you may not drive for six months. You are obviously too immature to be driving."

Christine wanted to protest, but she remained silent. So far, the punishment didn't seem too bad or unexpected. She knew it could get worse.

"You will not be allowed to hang out with your friends at the mall, the skating rink or the movies for two months." Brennan had thought this was a little too much, but Booth had demanded it. "They may come to our house, but you may not go to theirs . . . Your father doesn't trust you, Christine. You lied to him and you stole his car. You have to earn that trust back. You may go to school on the bus or we can take you to school, but you may not drive and none of your friends can take you."

"And last but not least, you have to attend all of Hank's hockey games this season." Booth wanted their daughter to be part of the family and that included hockey games. "We're a family and that means we support you and we support Hank in whatever activities you two want to do. Hank loves you Christine and it hurt his feelings that you didn't want to come to his first hockey game. He tried to pretend it was no big deal, but he really was hurt. He adores you and you just treated him like he was nothing."

Ashamed, Christine stared at her soggy tissue. "I know and I get it. No driving for six months. I have to pay the fine, no hanging out with my friends unless it's at the house for two months and I have to go to Hank's hockey games . . . Is that all?" She sure hoped it was.

"I think so, unless your mother has something else she wants to add." Booth felt bad punishing his daughter so harshly, but she needed to pay for her crimes and she had committed a real crime. She was lucky she wasn't being charged with Grand Theft Auto.

"No, I'm good." Christine blew her nose once more. "I'm sorry I've been a brat lately . . . Sometimes, I just have these feelings and . . . I just feel like I'm an adult sometimes and I want to be able to do what I want to do, but I know I'm not an adult yet and it's so frustrating. I just don't know myself sometimes and I want to explode."

Brennan gently squeezed Christine's arm. "You should enjoy your childhood while you can. Because of my parents, I had to grow up very fast when I was fifteen years old and your father . . . well, his childhood wasn't much of a childhood either. You have an opportunity to take your time, to learn and to grow knowing that Booth and I are here to protect you when we can and to help you navigate through the pitfalls of growing up. You're going to be an adult very soon. Quit trying give up your childhood. You will have plenty of time as an adult to do the things you want to do."

"Yeah . . . thanks Mom." Christine couldn't believe the things she had done in the last week, but she had done them. "And thanks Dad."

"You're welcome, Christine. Your mother is going to take you back to the Lab with her for the rest of the day. I think she has some little jobs she'd like you to do." Booth smiled at Brennan. "I'll probably be a home a little late tonight. I'll call you later this afternoon." He had phone calls to make and Harry and Ryan were about to find out what it was like to piss off a Deputy Director of the FBI.

Ooooooooooooooooooooo

Let me know what you think of my story.


	25. Chapter 25

(In the future)

A/N: I had a lot of requests for a sequel for chapter 24.

I really don't own Bones.

Ooooooooooooooooooooooooo

He had contacted the FBI field office in New Haven, Connecticut and talked to Special Agent in Charge, Jeffrey Daniels. Per Booth's request, Daniels arranged to pick up Harry Sullivan and Ryan Patterson and bring them in for questioning. Glad for the quick response, Booth booked a flight to New Haven for himself and Aubrey for early the next day. He would have driven, but it would have taken over five hours one way and Booth's lower back was giving him problems lately. Too many hours sitting at a desk. He needed to increase his workouts to compensate for all the hours he put in doing paper work.

Arriving at the field office the next day, Booth and Aubrey met with Daniels in his office. After shaking hands, they all sat down and decided how the interrogation would go.

"I want to be in the room, Sir." Daniels ran a tight ship and if the Deputy Director was going to interview two men in his office, he wanted to be there.

"Not a problem." Booth handed over a folder and let the Agent look the information over. He wanted Daniels to know exactly what was going on and why. "I don't know if I have a case here or not, but I can't let it slide either. These two guys need to at least be questioned and made aware that we know what they've been up to. It may come down to charging them, letting them go through the courts and see if the case is thrown out, but at least Sullivan and Patterson will have been made to pay for what they tried to do."

Daniels was a little leery of what Booth planned to do, but this did involve two sixteen year old girls from another state and as weak as it was, there might be a case. He had had Agent Brewers going over the suspects backgrounds and so far, they hadn't found anything worrisome. "We'll have to see how this plays out. If they did try to solicit those young girls then they'll be charged."

Aubrey stared rather forlornly at Daniels. "I hope they haven't tried this shit before. If they have we need to find out about it."

The Agent nodded his head. "I have an agent making inquiries right now. He's been at the University of New Haven since early this morning, interviewing a few of Sullivan's and Patterson's friends and classmates." He paused and made a call to have Sullivan and Patterson brought to the interrogation room. "We had them picked up last night. I thought a night in a cell might be an eye opener for those two. I got Judge Huang to sign off on a warrant for Sullivan's and Patterson's laptops. I've had a tech looking them over since early this morning. He said he'd have something for me by ten or so."

Booth approved. "Good." He looked at his watch. "It's almost ten now. If you could let the tech know we're going to be in the interview room, that'd be great."

Ooooooooooooooooooooooo

Sullivan and Patterson had talked it over and decided to play it cool. They had been arrested on suspicion of solicitation of a minor, but they thought they could talk their way out of it. Their lawyer was on the way and all they had to do was sit tight.

Booth, Aubrey and Daniels entered the interrogation room and noticed their suspects whispering. Booth and Daniels sat down on the chairs opposite the young men and Aubrey stood near the door giving both men a look of disgust. He had a role to play and he'd play it well.

"Have you been read your rights?" Booth placed the folder down on the table unopened and leaned on the desk.

Both college students looked at each other and then back at Booth. "Yeah." Sullivan was nervous. "Why are we here? The agent that arrested us said we were in trouble for solicitation of a minor. What the hell is going on?"

Calmly, Booth opened the folder that contained a thick pile of paper, turned over two pictures and placed them on the table where the suspects could see them. "Christine Booth, Emma Crooks, both aged 16. You and your friend asked them to come to New York to attend a play with you."

"They're lying." Patterson leaned forward. "We didn't do that. We mentioned that we were coming to a play in New York and they mentioned they had tickets and they were coming too."

Booth leaned back and accepted a binder from Aubrey who had been waiting for this moment. Flipping through pages marked with post-it notes, Booth leaned over the book and read from it. "Harry: hey I've got a great idea. Since we all want to see the play, let's see it together. You and Emma can drive up and we'll meet in front of the theater." Booth leaned back against his chair and stared at Sullivan.

Clearing his throat, Sullivan shook his head. "You went through my computer? I didn't give you permission to do that."

A sinister smile on his face, Booth stared at the sweating you man. "This is from Christine Booth's computer not yours. We have every conversation you had between her and Emma Crooks."

Patterson thought he saw a way out. "Hey, you're saying that Christine and Emma are minors, but we thought they were 18. That's what they told us."

Quietly flipping through the pages, Booth found what he was looking for. "Ryan: It's nice to meet you Emma. What school do you go to? Emma: Washington Leadership Academy, I'm in the eleventh grade right now. Ryan: Cool. I go to Columbia University. I'm a freshman, but I really love it here." He sat back and stared at Patterson with an expressionless face.

"You have Emma's computer, don't you?" Patterson felt sick. "I, um . . . we just invited them to a play. We weren't going have sex with them or anything. We're not stupid."

Sullivan grabbed his friend's hand. "Shut up." He faced the agents and clasped his hands on the table. "We demand our lawyer be present. We're not saying another word."

Booth stood up, picked up the binder and folder and held them under his arm. "Fine. You'll wait here until he or she arrives." Motioning for the other agents to proceed him, Booth made it to the door and looked back. "We have your computers by the way. A judge granted our warrant this morning."

Alarmed, Ryan stared at Harry and swallowed. "Dude!"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Just keep quiet until our lawyer gets here."

Oooooooooooooooooooooo

They were back in the room, all three Federal Agents, the two suspects and their lawyer. Daniels reminded them that they had been read their rights twice and Booth took over the interview. "We had a tech go over your computers. Although you deleted some of your history you should be smart enough to know that everything is on the cloud. Nothing is ever really gone once it hits the cloud . . . You have been arrested on the suspicion that you've violated statute 18 USC 2422 and 2423. Your lawyer can tell you what that means, but what it boils down to is you both persuaded two minors to travel between state lines to engage in unlawful sexual activity or to attempt to do so. You also used the internet as a means of interstate commerce to do it. Both of these crimes are a felony."

The lawyer, Jill Hudson shook her head. "My clients deny trying to solicit sex from their young friends. They arranged to meet them in New York to see a play and dinner afterwards. That's all."

Booth flipped open the folder sitting on top of the binder he had placed on the table and pulled out a sheet of paper. "Your clients booked two hotel rooms in the same hotel, on the same floor, on the same day as the minor Christine Booth's booking. Your clients enticed two minors to come to New York and they planned to have sex with them."

"They didn't entice anyone. They suggested a hookup to a play and that's all. As for the rooms, they didn't want to drive back to New Haven after the play. It's just a coincidence they chose the same hotel."

Remaining expressionless, Booth flipped open the binder and found the page he was looking for. "Ryan: Emma are you guys staying overnight? Emma: Christine booked a hotel room at the Archer Hotel. Ryan: Cool. Harry and I aren't sure where we're going to stay yet. Emma: Can't you just drive back home? Ryan: Maybe, we'll see. Maybe we won't have to. It depends upon what happens after the play. Emma: It might be late. Ryan: Yeah." Booth looked at Ryan. "Care to amend your statement?"

Sullivan licked his lips. "We didn't plan to have sex with Christine and Emma. We're just friends. If we had known being friends with a couple of high school girls was going to lead to this we would have told them to leave us alone."

A knock on the door and Aubrey opened it. Taking a folder from Agent Rentz, he flipped it open, read a few lines on the page then handed the folder to Booth. Once he had it in his hands, Booth opened it and moved a little to the side so that Daniels could read it while he did. Once he was done, he glanced at Daniels and nodded his head. "Do you know a guy names Dwain Frye?"

Patterson turned pale. "Yeah. He's in a few of our classes."

His eyes cold, Booth stared at Patterson for a few seconds before he responded. "Dwain Frye is currently in the room next door. He's being interviewed by Agent Brewers. Dwain claims that you two had been bragging about a hot date you had planned in New York for about a week and when he asked you about it yesterday, you told him that your dates didn't show up. According to Dwain you two called the girls a lot of filthy names. One of them was cockblocker. He said you were furious that they hadn't shown up in New York and that the girls were just teases who needed to be taught a lesson and you planned to do that as soon as you could find out where they live."

Sullivan felt sick. "He's lying. Dwain is a loser who couldn't get a date if he paid someone. We're kind of popular with the ladies and he's jealous that's all."

"I see." Booth leaned back against his chair and crossed his arms against his chest. He wanted to pound both men in the face until even their own mothers didn't recognize them, but he wasn't going to screw up this case. "Do you know Patricia Belcher? She's being interviewed with Dwain. She's Dwain's girlfriend. She was in the apartment with Dwain when you two started ranting about Christine and Emma. She said she was appalled and she was afraid for the girls. She said that she and Dwain were talking about calling the police when Agent Brewers showed up. Maybe you forgot she was there or you didn't notice her, but she was there and she noticed you."

"They're both lying." Harry stood up. "We didn't plan on having sex with a couple of kids."

Standing, Daniels pointed at Harry's chair. "Sit down!" Once the man was sitting, Daniels remained standing. "Harry Sullivan, Ryan Patterson, you are both under arrest for the crime of solicitation of a minor."

"We didn't do anything." Harry was close to panic. "This could ruin my future. You can't do this to me."

Booth stood up. "You don't have to have sex with a minor to be arrested for solicitation. Intent matters in this case."

Jill Kitchens spoke up. "You don't have any proof that they intended to have sex with those two girls."

"We'll let the courts decide." Booth had had enough. Standing, he gathered up the binder and the folder and left the room. He had remained calm during the entire interview and he wasn't sure why. He had wanted to beat the shit out of both of them, but his daughter and Emma didn't need him in jail. They needed Ryan and Harry behind bars so they couldn't come after them.

Aubrey followed behind Booth, leaving two flustered men yelling at their lawyer. "Everyone is a liar. They're as pure as the driven snow. Cops are power hungry bastards and jealous of successful guys like them, etc. etc. etc."

Daniels shook his head. "I wasn't sure about them until Brewers found witnesses. Those sick bastards. I hope they don't get away with this crap. You need to warn your daughter and her friend to be on the lookout for those two. If they see them, run and get help."

"They come near my daughter and I'll kill them." Booth didn't mince words. He would protect his family and that meant he would kill for them if he had to. He was sure it wouldn't come to that. Harry and Ryan were going to be too busy in court for a while and he would have someone drop a bug in their ears that they had better stay away from Christine and Emma if they wanted to keep breathing. He would make sure they knew that if anything happened to Christine or Emma they would disappear from the face of the earth and no one would ever find their bodies. He had a friend he could count on to relay the news.

Ooooooooooooooooooooooo

He tried to be quiet as he removed his clothes. As he lay on the bed, he knew he had failed when Brennan rolled towards him, placed her arm across his chest and kissed him. "I'm glad you're home."

"Me too." Booth kissed his wife and smiled at her. "I would have taken you with me, but this had to be done by the book. Those two have been booked with solicitation of a minor. I talked to the prosecutor up in New Haven and he's going to prosecute. Come to find out there have been some complaints against those two at the school about sexual harassment and Harry Sullivan is actually on probation . . . Our little girl had a close call with those two. I just hope she realizes that the internet is not a way to hook up with someone. Meeting strangers can be very dangerous. You have no idea who you're talking to on the internet. Someone can appear to be friendly and he might really be a serial killer or something. Kids have got to be more careful."

He was agitated and Brennan understood why. "You're right. We'll talk to Christine and Emma again." She kissed him until she could feel his body relax beneath hers. Pleased that she had calmed her husband down she moved over so that she was straddling his hips. "Are you relaxed?"

His hands on her hips, Booth smiled. "Oh, I'm very relaxed. "

Brennan laughed. "Well maybe for now, but not in a few minutes." Leaning over she kissed him, savoring the moment. Her husband was everything to her and she loved him so much.

Ooooooooooooooooooo

That is then end of this little arc. I hope you were entertained. Parker will appear in the next chapter.


	26. Chapter 26

(Season 12)

Thank you for reviewing my story. I appreciate it.

A/N: This is a reminder that these stories are not in chronological order. I write them as I think of them.

I don't own Bones.

Oooooooooooooooooooo

Parker had met someone on the plane on the way to Washington D.C. from London and they had talked most of the trip about a variety of topics including outdoor sports and activities. He had been ecstatic when he had found out that Dene was visiting an aunt in College Park, Maryland for the next five weeks. Her aunt was a professor at the University of Maryland and Dene visited her once a year during summer break.

It turned out that Dene Pinkley was one year older than he was, but she didn't seem to mind the age difference. Of course, Parker didn't see why anyone would think it was bad for a seventeen-year-old to be interested in an eighteen-year-old. After all, his father was five years older than his wife.

Just before their plane landed, Parker and Dene exchanged phone numbers, email addresses and physical addresses. They were both determined to explore their friendship during the summer and since Parker's father didn't live that far away, it wouldn't be a burden to meet up once or twice.

Once they were off the plane, Parker spotted his family right away. Taking Dene's hand in his hand, he pulled her towards his father and step-mother. "Dene, wait until you meet my family. You'll love them." Now closer to his family, he released her hand and waved. "Hey you guys."

Christine squealed and raced towards her brother. "Parker . . . you're here." Once she was close enough, she launched herself up and her brother caught her hugging her before placing her down on the ground. "Chrissy, how you been, Monkey?"

Pulling his hand, Christine tried to drag him towards her parents and brother while Dene followed behind. She didn't see her Aunt yet and she thought it might be nice to hang out with someone while she waited.

Parker hugged his father who thumped him on the back, then his stepmother and last, but not least, he pulled Hank from his Brennan's arms and hugged his little brother. "Hey there Tiger."

Feeling a little shy, Hank looked towards his mother and reached for her. Since he knew that his little brother might not remember him, Parker gave the child back to his mother. "Sorry."

Brennan patted the teenager on the arm. "He's just not used to you Parker." She felt bad for Parker since he appeared to want to hold his little brother, but Hank was just a toddler and he might not remember Parker very well since he'd only seen him twice before and one of those times, he'd been two months old.

He understood that the little boy was afraid and he didn't want to be the cause of any tears. "That's okay. He'll get used to me." _I hope._

Booth smiled at the young lady standing behind his son. "Hi, I'm Seeley Booth."

Holding out her hand, Dene smiled. "I'm Dene Pinkley. I met Parker on the plane. It's nice to meet you and Mrs. Booth."

"Dr. Brennan." Booth shook her hand, "My wife is a forensic anthropologist." Releasing her hand, he smiled at his wife. "She's the best in the world."

Since it was the truth, Brennan didn't correct him. "It's nice to meet you, Ms. Pinkley."

Puzzled, Dene studied Brennan's face for a moment and smiled. "You're Temperance Brennan. You write murder mysteries. I don't read them, but my mother loves those."

Amused, Booth chuckled. "Yep, her books are pretty popular." He knew those kinds of statements annoyed Brennan, but the girl was being honest.

And Brennan was annoyed, but she knew that not everyone liked to read murder mysteries. She knew for a fact that Cam preferred to read romance novels, so she wouldn't hold anything against the child. "Are you being met by anyone? We can take you home if you need us to."

At that moment a woman rushed over to where Dene was standing and gushed. "Darling, I'm so sorry I'm late. I was pulled over for speeding and the policemen insisted that I needed a ticket. I told him I needed to pick you up from the airport, but he didn't care. Policemen are like that. They don't help anyone. They just write tickets and keep us from our duties."

Booth stared at the woman with hooded eyes, but didn't say anything. He had no intention of embarrassing his son or Dene.

A little alarmed at the words coming out of Dene's aunt's mouth, Parker moved over to where Dene was standing and pointed at his family. "We have to leave. I'll call you." Turning he walked over to where his family was standing and shrugged his shoulders. "Can we leave? I sure am hungry."

Christine grabbed her brother's hand and started chattering. "We're having pizza tonight. Mommy said that Daddy can have meat pizza and he promised to share it with me . . . "

Before he followed his family away from the waiting room, Booth stared at Dene's Aunt who was still complaining about the ticket. Since it wasn't his business, he decided not to say anything, turned and caught up with his family.

The glare on Booth's face, didn't go unnoticed by Dene.

Oooooooooooooooooooooo

Parker arranged to meet Dene half way between her Aunt's house and his father's house. This was their first opportunity to get together since they'd arrived in the States six days ago, so they wanted to spend the day together. The Ihop was busy, but not too busy. Finding a table in the back of the restaurant, they sat down and smiled at each other.

"I'm glad you could meet me." Parker had looked forward to seeing Dene again. "Bones let me borrow her car. She and the kids went with Dad this morning, so I could use her car. Bones made sure I had a valid driver's license first. She's a stickler for stuff like that, but I don't mind. It just means she cares."

Dene agreed. "I have my driving license, so my Aunt let me borrow her car and she took the bus to work. She lives close to University and would have walked, but it's supposed to rain this morning and she didn't want to take the chance." She decided to broach the subject of Parker's father's reaction at the airport when her aunt talked about her speeding ticket. "Your father seemed to be angry when my Aunt talked about her speeding ticket . . . is he a police officer?"

"Worse, he's an FBI Agent." Parker said it with a smile so she wouldn't take it seriously. "He's had a few speeding tickets himself, but he never complains about the police. He told me if you're willing to do the crime, then you have to be willing to pay the price . . . He has a lead foot and he's been caught more than once speeding. I know because I was in the car last year when he got one and Bones told me about the other four." Parker laughed. "He didn't like her ratting him out, but Bones believes in honesty."

"I think my aunt offended your father." Dene wasn't sure if she should apologize to Seeley Booth or not. "She has a tendency to distrust authority."

Parker shook his head. "Don't worry about it. He didn't mention it to me, so I don't think he cared that much." Parker leaned back as the waitress placed a glass of water in front of him and asked him for his order. Once he and Dene had told the server what they wanted, they continued their conversation. "Hey, you mentioned that you like rock climbing. Would you like to do that while you're here? We can meet up somewhere and spend the day rock climbing or hiking or both."

She loved the outdoors and if Parker was willing to go rock climbing with her, she wouldn't turn it down." I don't have any gear with me."

"Not a problem." Parker leaned on the table before him. "I don't have any gear either. We can buy some and then go rock climbing . . . I guess I should tell you I've never done that before. If you don't mind showing me how that would be great." He hoped she would be willing to be his teacher.

"Of course, I don't mind." Dene had taught a friend of hers how to climb and she had liked being the master of the situation. "Let's check on some places in the area, buy what we need and make arrangements to go next week sometime."

Ooooooooooooooooooooo

Brennan received a phone call from a number she didn't recognize and curious she answered. "This is Dr. Temperance Brennan." The person who answered was extremely nervous.

 _Dr. Brennan, hello, this is Dene Pinkley. I'm Parker's friend from England._

"Yes, I know who you are." Brennan found it odd that that Dene was calling her. "How may I help you?"

 _Dr. Brennan . . . Parker is at Valley Health Page Memorial Hospital. We went hiking at Old Rag Mountain and we found a good place to rock climb . . . he was doing so well, but . . . he has a broken arm. The hospital needs a guardian to come, so that he can be released. We're in Madison County, Virginia. I'll stay of course until you get here . . . I'm so sorry._

"Please don't apologize." Brennan stood up and removed her lab coat. "I will inform his father as soon as I end this call and we'll be there was soon as possible . . . Is that the only injury he sustained, a broken arm?"

 _Well no. He has some bruises and cuts too. He says he's fine and not to worry about him, but we do need his guardian to come to fill out paper work. He has his mother's insurance card, but Parker is a minor._

"We'll be there as soon as possible." Brennan ended the call, glanced at her watch then called Booth. "Booth we need to drive to Valley Health Page Memorial Hospital in Madison County, Virginia to get Parker. If memory serves me right, that is near Shenandoah National Park."

 _What's wrong? What happened to Parker?_

"He and his friend Dene went hiking and decided to do some rock climbing as well." Brennan wasn't sure why they had driven to Shenandoah to hike. "I suppose he fell and broke his arm. She didn't say he fell, but that is the implication."

 _I'll come and get you. I'll be there as soon as I talk to my boss._

Brennan was already on the way to Angela's office. "I'll arrange for Angela to pick up Christine and Hank from Day Care and take them home with her. She won't mind."

 _Good. See you soon._

Oooooooooooooooooooo

Parker was sitting on a bed in one of the examination rooms, when his parents arrived. Dene stood up and pointed towards the door. "I'll leave now."

"Please don't." Booth held up his hand. "It's going to be dark soon. We want to follow you back to your home to make sure you get there alright."

Surprised, Dene sat down. "Thank you."

Brennan and Booth moved closer to the bed and each hugged Parker careful not to put pressure on his cast. "I'm okay. Really. It was my fault. I just didn't make sure I had a place to move my hand before I moved. It was dumb and it wasn't Dene's fault."

"Have you ever gone rock climbing before this?" Booth was sure his son had never mentioned it.

The truth was always the best course of action. Parker shook his head. "Dene was teaching me, but this wasn't her fault."

She could tell that her step-son thought Dene was going to blamed, she just wasn't sure why. "No one is blaming Dene for anything." She glanced at Booth who shook his head then at Dene. "You probably should have told us you were coming out here though, so we would know where you were. If you had both been hurt or killed we wouldn't have known where to look for you."

Dene wasn't used to telling anyone what she was up to, but she saw the logic in Brennan's statement. "Yeah, you're right. I should have thought of that. I will the next time."

"Good." Booth helped his son stand up after helping the teenager put his shoes on. "Okay, I've already talked to your doctor and I've filled out the paper work. We can go home."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you where I was going." Parker knew that had been a mistake. "I just thought it would be cool to go hiking today and then try rock climbing. I left a note on the coffee table in the living room telling you I'd be back late . . . I know you don't want to know where I'm going to be all the time, but it would have been a good idea to have mentioned where we planned to hike. I'm sorry and I'm sorry for making you drive out here to rescue me . . . Boy Mom is going to be mad at me."

Booth shrugged his shoulders. "Good. She can yell at you for both of us." Now that he saw that his son wasn't seriously hurt, he was feeling a little angry. "I've seen a lot of dead bodies in my life, Parker and some of them was because someone went somewhere and didn't tell anyone where they were going. That someone was hurt and they died alone and in pain. I'm not asking for an itinerary, but if you're going to drive across the state and do something like rock climbing then I think you should tell me. At least I'll know where to find your body."

He thought it was funny and Parker laughed. The stern look on his father's face told him that Booth hadn't meant that last sentence to be funny. "Sorry. You're right. Like I said I'm sorry."

Since there wasn't anything else to be gained by talking about it, Booth moved over to the door and walked out into the hallway. Brennan knew that her husband had been afraid for his son since she had called him earlier that afternoon. "He loves you Parker. He was afraid for you."

His cheeks warm, Parker nodded his head. "I know and I am sorry. Thanks for coming to get me, Bones."

"You're welcome." Brennan glanced at Dene. "Come Ms. Pinkley. We'll go to where you have parked your car and then you can drive to where we are parked. We will follow you home. Perhaps we will stop for dinner on the way. We can talk in the parking lot about it. Do you have a preference for eating establishments?"

Dene wasn't sure how to take what she had witnessed, but she knew that these people cared about their son and that made her feel better about the situation. "No ma'am. I can eat anything . . . well almost anything."

"Alright." Brennan placed her hand on Parker's upper back and pushed him slightly towards the door. "You will need to call your mother when you get home."

"Oh joy." Parker knew that was one phone call he didn't want to make.

Ooooooooooooooooooooo

Let me know what you think of my story. Thank you.


	27. Chapter 27

Thank you for reviewing my story. I appreciate it.

I don't own Bones.

Oooooooooooooooooooo

The house was quiet, maybe a bit too quiet. Booth decided that two kids and a quiet house meant something was probably wrong although he prayed that he was just over reacting. Leaving the kitchen where he had been preparing lunch for his youngsters, he walked down the hallway and entered Christine's bedroom. Finding it unoccupied he left the room and walked down to Hank's room. The door being closed to that room instantly raised the hackles on his neck. Quickly opening the door, he found his daughter standing over his son holding a stapler.

"The force isn't with you this time, Darth." Christine pointed the stapler at Hank and made electrical sounds of some kind.

"What are you doing?" Booth noticed the bowl his daughter had on her head and a towel pinned around her neck, using it as a cape over her clothes. Hank was wearing a Darth Vader mask, well he was mostly holding it over his hand and laughing.

Christine pointed at her little brother. "He's Darth Vader and I'm General Leia and even though he's my father, he's evil and I'm going to save the galaxy." She had made her costume by herself and Hank had wanted to play with her, so she didn't see why her father was upset. "Hank said he'd play with me."

"That's fine Honey, although you have to remember Hank is just one and he might have other ideas about what playing is." Carefully, he lifted the bowl from the top of his daughter's head and inspected it to make sure it wasn't damaged. "Christine, you've been told not to play with Mommy's old stuff. This bowl is Olmec or Toltec or something like that and I know for a fact it's over a thousand years old and maybe older, I don't know . . . If Mommy saw you playing with this she'd have a cow."

Giggling, Christine covered her mouth. "Daddy, Mommy can't have a cow. She can only have human babies."

"Smart ass." He muttered the words under his breath so his precocious child couldn't hear him. "Right . . . Why are you messing around with Mommy's stuff?" He held the bowl against his chest and looked inside. Much to his annoyance, he saw a crack inside and he knew he was going to be blamed for this disaster. "Well?"

Suddenly, it seemed to Christine that her choice for a helmet when she had made her costume might have been a bad one. "It looks like alien stuff and I was real careful not to break it. I was just using it as a helmet and I gave Hank the mask because it's just plastic and he can't hurt it." They both looked at the toddler and witnessed him gnawing on the edge of the mask.

After he carefully placed the bowl down on the bed, Booth leaned over, picked up his son and took the mask from the boy's hand. "Hey Tiger. You don't want to eat this nasty old mask. Daddy is making lunch. Why don't we all go into the kitchen and eat?" Booth pointed at the bowl. "Christine bring the bowl with you. Be careful and don't drop it. We're going have a very long talk about boundaries and property rights and not pissing off Mommy."

Christine picked up the bowl and noticed the crack inside. "Oh no! Mom is going to be so mad when she sees this crack . . . Maybe you broke it when you took it off of my head." At least she hoped that's what happened.

"Really?" Booth shook his head. "Nice try, but no. You're not going to pin the blame on me for that. You played with the bowl and now it's cracked. You get to take the responsibility for that."

Exhaling deeply, Christine stared woefully at her father. "Mommy shouldn't let little kids play with her stuff."

Snorting, Booth turned and walked to the doorway. "Good luck with that one." Amused, he walked down the hallway. "Hank, when Mommy comes home we're all going to wish we had Jedi powers. Believe me."

Oooooooooooooooooooooo

Hank and Christine were in bed. Unsurprisingly, Christine had not complained about going to bed like she normally did. The minute Booth had mentioned what time it was, Christine had closed her coloring book, placed the crayons in a box and had raced out of the room.

"Don't forget to brush your teeth." Booth stood up and scooped up a sleeping Hank into his arms. "I guess you guys can skip a bath tonight." After he entered Hank's bedroom, he removed his son's pants and shoes, checked to make sure he was dry and laid the sleeping child on his bed. Staring at his son, he smiled. "You're lucky. Mommy won't be mad at you, so you sleep tight little man." Brushing a finger against his son's cheek, Booth shook his head. "I wish I could sleep like you do."

Once he was outside Christine's bedroom, he knocked on the doorframe. "You ready for bed?"

Christine finished pulling her PJ top over her head and climbed into bed. "I sure am." The child pulled her blanket up to her chin and frowned. "Is Mommy going to talk to me tomorrow?"

"Count on it." Booth sat on the edge of her bed. "Don't worry too much about the crack in the pot, okay?" He didn't want his child to be afraid of him or her mother. "You shouldn't have played with it and Mommy will probably make you memorize some words in the dictionary, but she won't be mad at you. You know she loves you and so do I. You just need to be more careful around your mother's old stuff. You're old enough to know better. The next time ask me to help you with your costume and I'll find you something cooler to use as a helmet, okay?"

"Okay." Christine was feeling a little less anxious about the situation. "I didn't mean to break it."

Booth leaned over and kissed her forehead. "I know you didn't Monkey. Now go to sleep." He stood up, walked over to the door, paused and stared at his little girl. He really enjoyed having kids in his life. They could put him through the wringer sometimes, but it was worth it to him. It would always be worth it.

Oooooooooooooooooooooo

Brennan entered the house, closed and locked the door and placed her purse and jacket on the kitchen island. Curious, she moved over to where her Olmec bowl was sitting. Picking it up, she inspected it and placed it back on the counter.

"Christine was playing Star Wars with it. She used it as a helmet." Booth decided to get the problem out in the open and get their conversation over. "As soon as I knew what she was doing I took it from her, but it has a crack in it."

Moving into the kitchen, she removed a bottle of beer from the refrigerator, opened it and drank some of the cool liquid. "She has been told not to play with the antiquities."

"Yep, but kids sometimes don't understand the rules we make up, so they ignore them." Booth was surprised that Brennan wasn't more upset. "She didn't mean to break it and she is sorry."

"You were supposed to be watching Christine and Hank." Brennan was annoyed that her child had ignored the rule about the antiquities in the house. "I've told her many times that they're old and some of them are fragile."

Booth shrugged his shoulders. "I was making lunch and she was playing with Hank in his bedroom. I try to keep track of them, but I can't make them lunch and watch them at the same time. I have to trust them sometimes. You know they don't really do stuff like this too often. Christine wanted to play Star Wars and I guess she didn't want to ask me to help her with her costume since I was cooking."

"Yes, I have had Christine do something while I was watching her that turned out to be a bad choice on her part . . . I am upset that she played with the bowl, but she didn't break it. It was cracked when I brought it home. It was one of the reasons why it was given to me."

Relieved, Booth sat down. "Whew, that's a relief . . . She thinks she broke it."

Staring at the bowl for a few seconds, Brennan nodded her head. "Perhaps the next time she will think carefully before touching any of the antiquities in this house." She wanted to be a good mother, but her child needed to be responsible for her actions. On the other hand, she knew that some of the pottery she owned could be tempting for a child. "If you could build a shelf in the living room that is high enough for our children not to be able to reach, I will place the more valuable pieces on the shelf. I want to expose them to other cultures, but they may be too young to understand that the pieces of pottery are not toys."

"You got it." Booth didn't mind building the shelf, but from experience, he knew that the shelf would be out of reach only until one of the kids figured out that moving a chair under the shelf would solve that problem. "So how did work go?" Booth picked up the Olmec bowl and placed it on top of the refrigerator. "How's that new intern of yours working out?"

"Ms. Walker has a lot to learn, but she is intelligent enough to know that." Brennan sat down at the island. "On the other hand, we did have an incident at the Lab today. One of Hodgins's snakes escaped from the Ookie room and Cam left the Lab for the day. We found it in her office, so I'd say it was a good thing she wasn't there this afternoon."

Booth laughed. "No shit . . . I have some baked eggplant in the oven . . . hungry?"

"I am, thank you." Brennan enjoyed working at the Lab, but she loved coming home too. There was rarely a dull moment in their house and she wouldn't trade her life for her old one. "I think I'll just have Christine read one of my books on the Olmec civilization and write a book report. She won't understand everything she reads, but she will understand enough."

That sounded fair to Booth. "Sounds good. You know we're pretty good parents."

"I think so too." Brennan had always worried that her parenting skills would be lacking, but as her children grew, they were happy and healthy and that was what mattered to her.

Oooooooooooooooooooooo

Let me know what you think of my story. Thank you.


	28. Chapter 28

(After Season 12)

Thank you for reviewing my story. I appreciate it.

I don't own Bones.

Ooooooooooooooooooooo

Christine and Hank heard about the garage sale Mr. Adams was having on Saturday from one of their friends and decided to check their banks and see how much money they had. Sitting on Christine's bed, Hank poured out the money from his porcelain piggy bank and started to count. "I've got sixty-four dollars and thirty-nine cents." He tried not to spend all of his allowance when his mother gave it to him. His father had told him that it was important to have money around for a rainy day and he believed his father. Why not, he was the smartest man in the world. "I've been trying to save most of my allowance all summer."

"That's good Hank." Christine was impressed. Hank was eight years old and he already knew that saving money was a good thing. She finished counting her money and sighed. "I have eighty-three dollars and sixteen cents . . . Okay, this is what we're going to do. We'll only take twenty dollars each to the garage sale. If Mr. Adams thinks we have a lot of money then he might try to charge us more if we decide to buy something."

"Oh Chrissy, I have a better idea." Hank grinned like a Cheshire cat. "Let's just take ten dollars then he'll think we're even poorer."

Amused, Christine laughed and tousled her brother's hair. "Sure, why not. It's not like he doesn't know our mother is a famous author and Dad is Deputy Director at the FBI."

Hank shook his head. "Just because Mom and Dad have money doesn't mean we do." That should have been very obvious to his sister, but maybe not. "I'm just taking ten dollars."

In agreement, Christine set aside ten dollars and placed the rest of her money back in her little pink safe. "That's fine. If he has something we want and it's more expensive we can come back home for more money. We just need to make sure that whatever we buy isn't broken. The last garage sale we went too didn't turn out so hot. That clock we bought was broken and Dad said it was cheaper to throw it away than to fix it."

Disappointed in that purchase, Hank sighed. "It was a pretty cool clock though. I should have kept it anyway. Oh well. Yeah, we need to be more careful."

Satisfied with their plan, Christine placed her ten dollar bill on her dresser. "Okay. We have to go early, so plan to get up around seven tomorrow. All the good stuff goes fast."

They had been checking out garage sales in the neighborhood all summer and Hank was becoming wise in the ways of garage sales. "Yeah, I know. We can eat breakfast when we get back home. I hope Mr. Adams has some books. Mr. Greer just had National Geographic magazines at his garage sale and Mom said we can't buy any more of those. Your bookshelf doesn't have any room and neither does mine."

Christine glanced at her bookshelves. "I need Dad to build me another one. Maybe I get him to make me one for my birthday.

Oooooooooooooooooo

She needed a chicken for dinner that evening and walked out into the garage where the freezer was. After the overhead light was on her attention was grabbed by a painting propped up on a work bench along the back wall. After studying the painting for a few minutes, she shook her head, retrieved the frozen chicken from the freezer and left the garage.

Once she was in the kitchen, she spotted Booth walking past her towards the living room. "Booth, I know most males like calendars with nude women on them to hang up in their garage, but I really do think you've gone too far. We do have small children living with us."

Puzzled, Booth stopped and placed his hands on his hips. "What are you talking about? I don't own any naked girl calendars."

"Not a calendar." Brennan was very disappointed in her husband. "The painting in the garage is very inappropriate and frankly I find it disappointing that you would buy a painting like that."

Totally confused, Booth walked over to the garage door, opened it and entered the room, Brennan following behind him. Once the overhead light was on, his attention was captured by the large painting propped up on his work bench. "Shit! Where did that come from?" Booth stared at the painting of a naked woman with chestnut colored hair and blue eyes. The curvaceous woman was holding a Washington Nationals pennant in one hand and a baseball in the other hand.

"You didn't place that painting on the work bench?" Brennan was sure Booth wasn't lying, but who else would put such a painting in their garage?

"No, I didn't." Booth stared at the statuesque woman and decided she was pretty, but not as beautiful as his Bones. "Come on. When have you ever known me to buy naked women calendars or paintings like this? I mean they're nice to look at, but only if you don't have someone like you to come home to. I don't need pictures when I have a flesh and blood woman as beautiful in my life as you are."

Flattered, Brennan moved over to where Booth was standing and kissed him. "That was a very nice thing to say."

"Well, it's the truth." Not sure what to do about the painting, Booth grabbed a cloth from his rag box, covered the painting with it and laid it flat on the bench. "It seems a shame to throw it away since it looks pretty nice. Maybe Aubrey would like it."

"He might, but I don't think Jessica would care for it." Brennan chuckled. "If this is a joke it is amusing. I just wish I knew who put this here."

Booth shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. Why don't you call Angela and see if she wants it? She likes risqué art."

Ooooooooooooooooooooo

On the verge of panic, Hank ran into the living room and almost crashed into his father who was sitting on the couch. Tugging on Booth's hand, the boy tried to get him to stand. "Daddy, my painting is gone."

Surprised, Booth pulled Hank towards him. "Hank was that painting of the woman with the baseball your painting? Where did you get it?"

"I bought it from Mr. Adams at his garage sale for $5. Please Daddy, we need to find it. Someone stole it." Hank didn't know where his painting was and he wanted it back. "Please Daddy, help me look for it."

"Calm down, Tiger." Booth tried to get his son to stop pulling on his hand. "I know where the painting is. It's not stolen."

Relieved, the boy stopped yanking on his father's hand. "It's not in the garage, Daddy. Where is it?"

"Tiger, why did you buy a painting like that?" Booth was concerned about why the boy would buy something that trashy. He was too young to be interested in sex.

Suddenly shy, Hank looked down at his hand which was being held by his father. "It's a present for you. Mr. Adams had some sports pictures and he said his nephew painted them. Mrs. Adams said it didn't go with their de . . . de . . . something of their house and she said I could have it for $5 since I was buying it for you. She said you're macho . . . I don't know what that means, but it didn't sound bad. I thought you could hang it on the wall with your other sports stuff."

Pulling the boy into his arms, Booth hugged him. "Thank you, Hank. That was so nice of you, but I don't really like sports paintings. I'm more of a poster kind of a guy. You've seen my posters. Even though it was a real nice thing that you did, I'd rather you didn't buy me anymore paintings."

"Okay." Hank was disappointed that his father didn't want it. "Christine thought $5 was pretty cheap for the painting."

"Christine, huh?" He was going to have a serious talk with his daughter when she came home from her Woodchucks meeting. "Well, it is pretty cheap, I'll admit that." Booth took $5 dollars from his wallet and handed it to his son. "Here you take this and save it. I'm going to give the painting to someone that I know who will really like it."

Taking the money, Hank stuffed it in his pants pocket. "Thank you. Maybe next time I'll get you a poster." He wanted to buy something for his father.

"If you see a Phillies poster, then you buy it for me." Booth was so proud that his son was such a generous soul. "You never know what you'll find at a garage sale."

"Okay." Hank smiled and stepped away from his father. "I'm going to go play some video games."

Once the boy was gone, Booth walked back into the garage, retrieved the painting from the trunk of his truck, raised the garage door and walked out onto the driveway. The rag still covered the painting so he thought it would be okay while he went on his mission.

Ooooooooooooooooooo

Ella Adams heard a knock on the living room door and curious opened the door to find a police officer standing on her doorstep.

"Ma'am, we've been getting some complaints from around the neighborhood about your painting."

Puzzled, Ella stepped outside and looked around. "What painting? . . . oh." Her cheeks reddened as she swallowed in embarrassment. "Um, that's not my painting. I sold it this morning at my garage sale."

Officer Riley scratched his chin. "Well, I guess they didn't want it. Some of your neighbors don't like it where it's at. Some of them have young children and . . ."

Ella held up her hand. "No, you don't have to explain." Marching over to the oak tree in the middle of her front yard, she snatched the painting away from the base of the tree and hurried back towards her house. "Don't worry officer. I know what I'm going to do with it."

Glad that nothing too weird was going on, Officer Riley nodded his head. "Thank you, Ma'am. I'm a big believer in the first amendment, but you know you have to draw a line when it comes to paintings like that and the fact that there are kids in the neighborhood. I noticed two little boys staring at it when I drove up."

Her cheeks burning, Ella tried not to cry. "My neighbors must think I'm a nut."

Office Riley patted her lower arm. "Probably not. Don't worry about it. Just make sure when you sell stuff at a garage sale that it goes to the right person. Obviously, whoever bought it didn't really want it."

"No, I guess he didn't."

Ooooooooooooooooooooo

Let me know what you think of my story. Thank you.


	29. Chapter 29

A/N: aadams00, Guest and RobinAngelena wanted a little more, so this is a sequel to chapter 28. If you haven't read chapter 28 yet, you might want to read it before you read this chapter.

I don't own Bones.

Oooooooooooooooo

At first Booth just meant to leave the painting leaning against the front door, but thought of a better idea while he was walking towards the Adams home. Hurrying back to his truck, he placed the painting on the passenger seat then drove down the street until he was in front of the Adams home. As quickly and as quietly as he could, he got out of the truck, leaned the painting next to the oak tree in the middle of the yard, reentered his truck and parked it two doors down in front of the Richards home.

After he turned the engine off, he removed his phone from his pants pocket and made a call. "Is this the police department?"

 _Yes, it is. How may I direct your call?_

"One of my neighbors, Adam Adams has a large painting of a naked woman leaning on a tree in his front yard. Now, I do believe in the first Amendment and I fought for my country to make sure everyone has a right to speak about stuff that they believe in, but a picture of a naked woman in the front yard isn't a great idea. There are a lot of young kids in this neighborhood and I think there are going to be some very upset parents calling you in a while if you don't have the painting removed from the yard." Booth gave him the address of the Adams household and waited to see what would happen next.

While he was waiting two young boys rode their bikes past his truck and stopped in front of the painting. "Shit!" Before he could leave the truck and chase the boys away a patrol car turned the corner, drove past Booth and parked in the Adams' drive way. The boys spying the policeman park in the driveway, quickly hopped on their bikes and pedaled away.

In a matter of minutes, the policeman had Ella Adams at the front door. Gleefully, he watched the officer point at the painting and Ella turn pale. "That'll teach you to sell a painting like that to my little boy. I don't care if your husband is an assistant deputy director at Homeland Security. Don't screw with me or my kids." The painting now removed from the lawn, Booth drove back home.

Ooooooooooooooooooo

Brennan stopped at Whole Foods to do some shopping on the way home. While she wheeled her cart towards the fresh vegetables, she spied Ella Adams checking out the mangoes on display. "Hello Ms. Adams." She had seen Ella several times at PTO meetings and found the woman pleasant to talk to. "I hope your daughter Tina is well. My daughter told me that Tina sustained a broken wrist."

"Um, Dr. Brennan." Ella felt her cheeks warm at the sight of her neighbor. "Yes . . . yes she is." Her husband had surmised that Seeley Booth had been the one to return the painting and to call the police. Adam had been furious that the Deputy Director of the FBI had embarrassed him and his wife about the painting, but there wasn't too much he could do about it. They both agreed that from that point on, they would not have any more garage sales. It wasn't worth the aggravation. Ella had pointed out that selling a painting of a nude woman to a young boy had been the mistake, but her husband was adamant that they weren't going to have any more garage sales. "Thank you for asking."

Picking up a mango, Brennan palmed the fruit to make sure it was firm. "My son said he went to your garage sale last Saturday. He said you had a few sports paintings for sale." Brennan loved art and nudity didn't bother her. She even enjoyed some pornography since it glorified the human body. On the other hand, she did mind pornography being sold to her son who was a young child. When she had seen the painting in her garage she had decided that it wasn't what anyone would consider a classic nude painting and when she found out that the Adams' had sold it to Hank she had almost called them to complain. Booth had stopped her and told her that he had already got revenge and it wasn't necessary for her to chastise the Adams'. He was sure they wouldn't do it again.

Her cheeks a bright red, Ella nodded her head. "My nephew paints sports related paintings . . . His mother didn't want them in her house, so I told him I'd sell them at my garage sale . . . They're actually quite tasteful and he is a very good painter."

"Um, I would say they aren't really tasteful enough to sell to a young boy." Brennan watched as Ella quickly look around. "My husband doesn't collect nude paintings. He collects sports accoutrements which includes posters, but not paintings."

"Yes, I understand." Ella wanted to leave. This whole conversation was very embarrassing. "Hank had told me he wanted to buy the painting for his father. Since your son wasn't buying it for himself I didn't see the harm." Of course, her husband had thought it would be great prank to pull on Seeley Booth, but now they both knew that the man didn't have a sense of humor and could be vindictive as hell. "We didn't mean to cause you or your husband any distress."

Brennan smiled. "Oh, we weren't distressed and my husband paid Hank back the $5 he had spent on the painting, so that he wouldn't lose his money. Of course, you did get the $5 and the painting."

Ella understood the hint. Brennan's hint was as hard a two by four to the head. "Yes, you're right." Removing a five-dollar bill from her wallet, Ella handed it to Brennan. "Here you are." Placing the wallet back in her purse, Ella sighed. "You know, your husband didn't really need to call the police. He could have just returned the painting to me."

"Yes, he could have, but my husband has an interesting sense of humor." Brennan leaned closer to Ella and lowered her voice. "He also is very protective of his children. It's not a good idea to tweak his nose. He will tweak back harder. He likes to win."

A slight chill running down her back, Ella nodded her head. "Good to know." Bagging two mangoes, she walked away.

Pleased with the exchange, Brennan decided to buy blueberries instead of mangoes.

Oooooooooooooooooooo

After Booth helped Brennan unload the groceries into the kitchen, they cut up an apple pie and grabbed a beer from the fridge. While they sat at the table, they both appreciated the fact the children were spending the day at the Hodgins home. They loved their children, but they also enjoyed some alone time when they could get it.

Before she forgot, Brennan removed a five-dollar bill from her pants pocket and handed it to her husband. "Here you go."

Not sure why he was being given money, Booth stuffed it into his shirt pocket. "Okay, sure."

Amused, Brennan laughed. "That is from Ella Adams. Since she got her painting back she thought it only fair that you got your money back . . . I met her at Whole Foods. She seemed a little uncomfortable meeting me."

"I can't imagine why." Booth's smile was sly, his eyes glinting. "Adam Adams is a prick and he likes practical jokes too much. I'll bet he doesn't top the one I played on him last week . . . and he'd better not try." Adam had played a prank on him at a community picnic the year before and Booth had told the man that payback was a bitch. He was certain that Adam hadn't counted on Booth waiting almost a year to get even. "He thinks he's such a hot shot being an Assistant Deputy Director at Homeland Security. Well not in my book."

"No, I don't think he will try to get even." Brennan knew that Ella had taken their conversation seriously and she would warn her husband to leave Booth alone. "I wonder what Ella did with the painting?"

Booth shrugged his shoulders. "If she had any sense she'll give it back to her nephew. Let him deal with his paintings . . . that painting Hank bought was kind of nice . . . not as nice as you of course, but still the girl was pretty." He loved to tease Brennan. He loved to see that green eyed monster crop up once in a while.

Her eyes glinting, Brennan placed her fork down. "I've posed for paintings for Angela."

Filled with worry, Booth placed his fork down and swallowed his bite of pie. "What kind of paintings?"

Enjoying the look of alarm on his face, Brennan sipped some of her beer and picked up her fork. "Paintings of me, I just told you. Weren't you paying attention?"

"Bones . . . what kind of paintings?" He was now starting to worry. Did she pose nude? If she did, how was he going to get those paintings from Angela?

Brennan shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. Angela wouldn't let me see them when she was painting them and when she was done, I didn't bother to ask to see them."

"Were you wearing any clothes?" His mind racing, Booth sighed when he saw Brennan grinning at him. "You know, Bones. You're a pain in the ass sometimes."

The look on his face made her laugh. "Do you remember that today is April 1st?"

"Bones . . . not nice Bones." Booth laughed. "You do know now I'm going to have to get you back."

"That's the price I am willing to pay. Good jokes shouldn't be avoided just because there is a possibility of retribution." Brennan saw her husband purse his lips and she knew he would find a way to joke her back. "You really do hate to have your nose tweaked, don't you?"

His eyes dark and hooded, Booth picked up his beer bottle, sipped some of the brew and placed the bottle down. "Would you like to pose for me?"

"I didn't know you can paint?" She thought she knew everything about Booth, but apparently not.

Booth stood up and leaned over his wife. "Who said anything about painting?"

Oooooooooooooooooooo

Let me know what you think of my story. Thank you.


	30. Chapter 30

(In the Future)

A/N: This is a sequel to chapter 22. I had a lot of requests for a continuation of that story, so here it is.

I really don't own Bones.

Oooooooooooooooooo

Ever since Hank had been arrested for public intoxication and trespassing, his parents had been debating about whether or not to allow him to travel to England to see his brother for the summer. Booth wanted his son to stay home as part of his punishment and Brennan wanted him to make the trip to widen his education. They were at an impasse and they needed to make a decision soon or it would be too late to get a plane ticket.

"Bones, he was arrested and fined." Booth was still upset that his boy had chosen to drink beer at such a young age. He hadn't drunk beer until he'd graduated from high school. The truth was he'd been afraid to drink beer or any other alcoholic beverage, but his grandfather had assured him that drinking in moderation would not turn him into his father. "The state also took away his driving privileges for 30 days. He needs to be punished."

"We've already punished him." Brennan was trying to keep Booth calm, so she spoke softly and reasonably. She didn't want it to escalate into an argument like it had done four days ago. Booth had slept on the couch that night and his back had bothered him for two days. She didn't want a repeat of that scenario. "We have taken away his allowance for four months. He can't drive for four months and he has to keep the lawns mowed and the garden beds weeded for the summer."

Booth wasn't impressed with Hank's punishment. "Big deal. The boy saves his money, so no allowance isn't going to faze him. I know for a fact he has over two hundred dollars in his piggy bank besides the money he has in his savings account. He was bragging about it three weeks ago when we were talking about his trip to England and as for taking care of the lawn, he should be doing that anyway. That should be his job, not mine. I do enough around here. He can quit playing video games long enough to mow the lawn every week not just when he's being punished." He had mowed his grandfather's lawn every week from the age of 10 until he'd moved away from home.

"Well, I think he's being punished enough. I don't . . . I think he should be allowed to go to England to see Parker." Brennan really hated to punish her children. It always seemed to be a form abuse to her. She had been abused in Foster Care and the thought of her children being hurt filled her with anxiety.

Aware of what Brennan was thinking, Booth grasped her hands in his hands. "Hey, I know what you're thinking and we've talked about this before. Punishing the kids when they do something wrong is not abusing them. We never hit them, we don't really yell at them. Well, you don't and I try not to. We try to make the punishment a learning experience and that is not abuse . . . Okay?" He'd been physically abused as a young boy and he knew that he could never allow that to happen to his children. "You chose the punishment for Hank and I know you think that it's enough, but it isn't. His punishment doesn't fit the crime and he did commit a crime. I know I had to pay the fine . . . by way, I haven't told him yet, but he is going to pay me back. He needs something serious taken from him to make an impression and taking that trip from him will definitely fit the crime."

Brennan stared at Booth's hands holding her hands and she knew that if they didn't add to Hank's punishment it might make it harder for Booth to trust their son. Her husband wanted Hank to appreciate that what he had done was wrong and if the punishment wasn't severe enough he was afraid that their son would not learn from his mistakes and repeat them. She knew her husband, she knew his history and she knew that he had trust issues just like she did. They both needed to be able to trust Hank since it was impossible to monitor his every action. "Parker will be disappointed if his brother doesn't come to see him. You know that he and his wife Dene can't come this year because Dene has to cover for her supervisor who had a heart attack and is recovering at the moment . . . I just think it will make Parker feel lonely that he can't be with his family this summer."

"Are you trying to guilt me?" Booth released her hands and leaned against the bar. "You're not really good with the psychological stuff and you know that."

"I am most certainly not trying to guilt you, Booth." Brennan huffed a little bit. "I am merely pointing out the obvious . . . Really, you do know I would never try to make you feel guilty about anything you're doing."

Amused with Brennan's fake outrage, Booth smiled. "Uh huh. Just last week you tried to get me to quit eating nacho chips smothered in cheese because my cholesterol had bumped up sixteen points. I'm older and my cholesterol is going to go up a little, but my cholesterol is fine. My doctor said it's still in the normal range for a guy my age."

"It's normal now, but it may not stay that way if you don't adjust your diet as you age." Brennan had always worried about his diet. "You have made changes to your diet over the years which I greatly appreciate, but you eat too much cheese."

His dark eyes boring into her blue ones, Booth shook his head. "Changing the subject isn't going to solve anything Bones. We're running out of time. Is Parker staying or going?" He was tired of talking about it. They needed to make up their minds.

Reluctantly, Brennan conceded that Booth might be right about the trip. She hated to disappoint her son, but Hank brought this on himself. "I'll call Parker and let him know that Hank isn't coming. You can tell Hank the trip is off."

Snickering, Booth shook his head. "Smooth, Bones. Real smooth." She was making him crush his sons dreams of going to England, but he guessed that was fair. He was the one that wanted to cancel it anyway. He leaned over and kissed her. "Sometimes being a parent sucks, but only sometimes."

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Hank had known that he wouldn't get to go to England, but it hurt anyway. This was going to be his first trip anywhere by himself and now he couldn't go. At first, he had stopped talking to his father and mother trying to punish them for being so mean to him, but then his sister had joined him in the backyard one afternoon while he was pulling weeds away from his mother's bean plants.

"So, no trip huh?" Christine stood behind him sipping a glass of ice tea. "If you planned to screw up, you should have waited until you got back from England, not before."

Irritated, Hank used a rag he had lying on the ground nearby and wiped his glistening forehead. "I made a mistake. I know that, but I was counting on that trip and they knew it."

"That's why they took it from you." Christine sat down on the grass next to her brother. "I warned you about drinking alcohol, Hank. Our Uncle Jared was a loser and his drinking led him down a path he didn't have to follow. He almost got Dad killed because he was such a loser. You've seen the scar on Dad's stomach. He almost bled to death . . . You don't see me drinking beer or wine and you don't see Parker drinking either. Dad's father was a drunk who beat his sons so badly Pops had to rescue them and Uncle Jared was a loser because he chose to drink when he could have given it up. Dad is addicted to gambling. There is definitely something wrong with the Booth genes. There is something out there waiting for us, so we have to be careful. I don't gamble, do drugs or drink any alcohol because I've seen how it can ruin lives. Don't you get that it could affect you too?"

His irritation growing, Hank threw the towel on the ground, grabbed his sister's glass of tea and drank until the glass was empty. "Mom and Dad drink."

Christine shrugged her shoulders. "With moderation. Drinking isn't their Achilles heel. Gambling is Dad's burden. Mom . . . I guess being right all the time can be a burden." The young lady laughed. "She's pretty strong. The only thing I know that she has to be careful of is peanut butter cookies. Man, she can eat a box of those if she's in the mood, but she tries to control that. We all have things we need to control . . . I don't know what my Achilles heel is because I know that the Booths' have addictive personalities and I don't want to risk finding out what my addiction is . . . Parker gave me this talk when I was sixteen."

Hank sat down facing his sister. "Maybe I don't have an addictive personality."

She started to worry that Hank was going to do what he wanted damn the consequences. "Grandfather, Dad, Uncle Jared . . . Parker."

Stunned, Hank stared at his sister, "Parker? What do you mean Parker?"

She knew she had her brother's attention now. "When Parker was nineteen, he started smoking. God knows why, but he did. He said he got hooked after smoking for just a few months. He has no idea why he started, but suddenly he couldn't stop. Dene was furious. She had been at University and during one of their breaks she went to visit Parker and found him smoking. Parker says she yelled at him, yanked his shirt off of him, pushed it in his face and told him to smell himself. She said he smelled disgusting. She was so mad she drove to her Mom's house and refused to see Parker for a week or take his phone calls . . . At first, he was angry that she had talked to him like that, but when he couldn't talk to her and that went on for a week, he worried that Dene wasn't going to ever talk to him again. He drove out to her mother's place to talk to her. Dene apologized for being mean to him, but then she told him why she had reacted the way she had. Her father died of lung cancer when she was eleven years old. He was a two pack a day smoker. Parker realized that he had a big decision to make. He could keep smoking or he could have Dene in his life, but not both. He gave up the cigarettes. It was hard, but he did it. Booths are weak, Hank. We can be so strong about a lot of things, but we all seem to have an Achilles heel that can bring us down. You weren't born yet when Mom threw Dad out of the house for gambling, but I've told you about it. Think before you give in to curiosity. Think really hard about what you have to lose."

He knew she was right. Christine and Parker had given him the addiction talk when he was fourteen, but he hadn't really let their words sink in. He had vowed never to be like his grandfather, but he hadn't thought any further than that. "I guess if I'm going to get addicted to anything it better be like Mom's. At least Peanut butter cookies can't get you arrested."

Christine laughed. "No, but you can get fat. Mom works out, so she can keep eating her cookies and you never see her or Dad drunk. Moderation is the key, Parker. If you want to risk drinking beer then make sure you know when to stop. If it looks like it's getting control of you, just walk away. Me? I'm too afraid to try. Seeing Dad in the hospital after he was almost killed. It scared the hell out of me. When I was older, Mom told me what had happened and I vowed never to let myself become a loser like Uncle Jared. He almost got Dad killed. It was a close thing. Too close." She looked so somber and it made Hank feel sad.

"I'm sorry I got busted for drinking, Chrissy. I'll try to be more careful about stuff like that." He really hated to think that his father wasn't perfect, but he wasn't a child anymore and he knew no one was perfect. No even himself. "Thanks for coming by. I needed someone to talk to."

Glad to see her little brother taking the Booth burden seriously, Christine patted his knee. "It's supposed to be a secret, but Parker is coming here for two weeks. Don't tell Mom or Dad, Parker wants to surprise them. Dene told him to do it. She's so nice."

Filled with happiness, Hank grinned. "Oh wow, that's cool. I really miss Parker."

Christine patted his knee once more. "Expect this talk from Parker too. I think he's coming because your arrest for drunkenness freaked him out. God knows he went on and on about it when he called me."

His smile drained from his face, Hank sighed. "Damn, it sucks being the kid brother."

"Poor Hank." Christine took the empty glass from her brother. "Next time, ask me for the glass, don't take it you spoiled brat."

His cheeks a rosy red, Hank pulled a few blades of grass from the bit of lawn in front of him. "Yeah, I will and thanks."

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Let me know what you think of my story. Thank you.


	31. Chapter 31

(After season 12)

Thank you for reviewing my story. I appreciate it.

I don't own Bones.

Oooooooooooooooooo

There is a four hour difference between London and Washington D.C., so Parker had to choose an appropriate time to call his father. Trying not to interfere with his father's family time with Brennan and the kids he chose to call at midnight, London time and hoped it was alright.

 _Parker, you don't normally call me on the phone, is everything alright?_

"Yeah, Dad, everything is fine." He was nervous, but tried to hide it. "I just wanted to talk to you, man to man."

 _Man to man? . . . Sure, what do you want to talk about?_

"Um, well . . . when did you know when you were in love?" There, he'd asked. He hoped to God his father didn't laugh at him. He was still upset with his mother over her ghastly reaction.

 _With your mother or Bones or just in general?_

He forgot his father was a romantic. His mother had always thought that was one his father's main weaknesses, but he thought it meant that his father just felt things deeper than his mother did. That was not to say his mother was cold, but she was cautious. Maybe too cautious. "When you fell in love with Bones. When did you know when you'd fallen in love with her?"

 _That's a complicated question, Parker._

"If you don't want to answer that's okay." He had hoped his father would talk to him since his mother was being such a stick about his problem. "Don't worry about it. It's okay."

 _I'm not saying I don't want to answer the question, Son. It really is a complicated question . . . Okay look, I fell in love with Bones the first time I met her, but she and I were worlds apart and we didn't really get along. When we finally started working together we had our ups and downs. We had to learn to trust each other and that took a while. Eventually we became friends, really good friends._

"I don't understand." And he really didn't. Why did love have to be so hard? "You fell in love at first sight, but you guys didn't do anything about it?"

 _Well no . . . like I said it's complicated and it takes two in this kind of situation. Bones didn't believe in love when we met and I didn't want to push her. She had a terrible childhood and that made her kind of afraid that love wasn't real . . . She had to learn to trust me . . . Of course, if I'm going to be totally honest with you, I had my trust issues too . . . Well, we knew each other for about seven years and worked as partners for about six before we both got our act together and admitted we loved each other. It wasn't Bones' fault and it probably wasn't mine . . . maybe . . . I don't know . . . see it's complicated._

He was more confused than ever. "I don't get it. I just need to know how can I tell if I'm in love with someone. I mean real love. Not just friends."

 _You need to talk to Dene, Parker. That was Bones' and my biggest mistake. We didn't really talk to each other. We assumed a lot and we fought the attraction we had for each other, but that was mostly because we loved our friendship so much and we were afraid we'd screw everything up if we became romantically involved. You can see that was a mistake. We've been together for eight years now and we have two beautiful children together . . . I suppose we could have got together earlier, but we weren't ready and if we had jumped the gun, I'm pretty sure our relationship would have failed. We needed time to work out a bunch of stuff, her and me, but we did it and now we're married and we're happy. Talk to Dene and see how she feels about you. Talking is the key._

"Who said I was in love with Dene?" He felt his cheeks burning from embarrassment and he was so thankful that he wasn't on Skype at the moment. "I was just asking you a theoretical question."

 _Uh, huh . . . just talk to whoever you're in love with and see if the attractions is mutual. Don't assume anything. Open up the line of communications and keep them open._

His father's advice was better than his mother's. "Mom thinks I'm too young to be in love. Dad I'm 20. How is that too young?"

 _If you're in love then you're in love. I do hope you plan to finish your degree before you get married though. It'd be even better if you waited until you've established yourself in your field, but I'm not telling you what to do. I got married when I was 42 and your mother has never been married . . . Pops married when he was 21 and my other grandfather was 25. Your Uncle Jared was 33 . . . I don't know what else to say. You do have to talk to her and be honest. Be very honest._

"I'm not talking about getting married, Dad." Or was he? He was so confused and so afraid. Marriage? Wow that would be a life changer. "Um, thanks for talking to me. I have to go."

The call ended, Booth smiled at Brennan. "You heard?"

"Yes and you didn't really answer his question, but then again we both know that love is hard." Sometimes she still felt like she didn't know what she was doing, but she persevered. She loved Booth and she loved her family and she would never give up on them. "Was he talking about Dene?"

"I think so." Booth placed the phone down and leaned on the counter top. "I'd hate to be where he's at in life. Trying to figure out how stuff works. Shit I was forty before I figured out all that love stuff."

Brennan smiled. "And yet you always had advice for me about love." She had had many conversations with her partner about love and he had always seemed confident. It wasn't until his relationship with Hannah had failed that she had finally understood that Booth wasn't any better at love than she was. He just hid his failures and confusion better. "It was nice advice, but I was never sure how much of it was wishful thinking."

He thought about it for a few seconds and conceded she had hit the nail on the head. "I guess it was mostly wishful thinking. I had this idea about what love was and reality had a way of messing with that idea. When I finally let go of some of my pie in the sky ideas that's when it all clicked together. I finally figured out that I didn't need the house in the suburbs, the white picket fence, the dog and marriage. Those were just dreams and they were nice dreams, but what I really needed was you. Just you."

"Aw." Her man could be so romantic. Moving around the counter she moved closer to him as he turned. Placing her arms around his chest she leaned against him. "And all I needed was you. I'm glad I married you because it made you happy."

"No." Booth hugged her. "No, you made me happy. Marriage was just the cherry on my sundae. I love you and I always will."

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Let me know what you think of my story. Thank you.


	32. Chapter 32

(In the future)

I don't own Bones.

Ooooooooooooooooooooo

Booth had a shoe box in his bedroom closet that Christine found interesting. She knew it didn't have shoes in it, but pieces of paper and odd kinds of keepsakes. She had discovered it one day when she was looking for new shoe laces for her hockey skates. She knew her father kept some laces in a box in the closet on the top shelf and while she was searching for those laces she had found the mystery box. When she had opened it, she had discovered that it was a keepsake box, like the one she had in her bedroom closet.

Determined to explore it, she usually waited until her father and mother went grocery shopping, so she could have time to explore the box at a leisurely pace. She was being slow and methodical in her exploration of the box. Christine wasn't in a hurry about it and up until that moment, she had worked her way through about half of the box's contents. So far, she had found letters from her mother, two from her Uncle Jared and several from her great-grandfather, Pops. She had found letters from men and women that her father had served with in the Army and a couple of letters from someone named Sam Cullen who used to work with her father.

She read each letter, fascinated with the facts she was picking up about her father that she had never known. A couple of the letters had been upsetting, but she had known that her father's job in the Army was dangerous and the close calls he had were unnerving to her.

She soon came upon a packet of letters tied in a faded navy blue ribbon that were by her father to his grandfather. She guessed that he must have found them in Pops' possessions when the old man had died and her father had decided to save them. Curious she read them hoping to gain some insight into her father's childhood. She already knew about his horrible father and she knew a little about his mother, but seeing the letters excited her. She was curious about his childhood, but never felt comfortable asking him about it. She knew his childhood had been terrible and she didn't want to embarrass him or make him sad talking about it.

Making herself comfortable on her parent's bed, she slipped one of the letters from its envelope and read it.

 _Pops_

 _Hi, I thought I'd write you and let you know that I'm doing okay. My feet are giving me some trouble, but since that's normal now, I'll just keep doing those exercises that Dr. Robinton gave me to do and keep plugging away. I'm being deployed to Kosovo. I'm not sure how long I will be there, but I will write you when I can. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine._

 _I had a dream last night about that last day I was living with Dad and how you rescued me. I just wanted you to know that I will never forget what you did for me and Jared. You saved me and I can never pay you back for that._

 _It got bad when Mom left us. Dad was out of control and his drinking was an everyday thing. He'd drink himself into a rage and because Mom wasn't around to beat anymore I became his target. Sometimes Jared would set him off, but mostly it was me._

 _I've never told you this before, but I was planning on killing myself. The beatings were so bad, I didn't see an end in sight. I know it's a sin to kill yourself and that's why I kept holding off on doing it, but I was getting desperate. I think I would have done it if you hadn't saved me when you did. My Dad was completely out of control that day and I was afraid he was going to cripple me or maybe kill me. You walked into the house, saw what was going on and you stopped it._

 _You're my hero Pops. Because of you, the pain ended that day and I had a future. I know you were counting on retiring before you took Jared and me away from Dad, but you continued to work instead. You did that so we could have nice clothes and so you could pay for things like me playing football in high school. You could have sent us to Foster Care, but you didn't. We were your family and like you told us more than once, you never abandon family._

 _Thank you, Pops. I can never say that enough. Thank you for being the father I always wanted. Thank you for giving me discipline when I needed it, but doing it in a kind humane way. I promise when I have kids I will never hit them. I will show them the love they need to grow to be strong, like you did for me. You showed me how to be a real man. Because of you, I know what love is and what kindness is._

 _I know you probably didn't want to hear any of this, but I wanted to say these things to you at least once. You need to know that you're my hero. You will always be my hero, Pops._

 _Love Seeley._

She felt a tear slide down her cheek and quickly brushed it from her face before it fell onto the letter she was holding. Her mother had told her about her grandfather being an abusive monster when she was about thirteen years old, but to read the words her father had written about it and about wanting to kill himself made her feel sad for him. His father had been a horrible excuse for a human being and she would never forgive him for his cruelty and monsterish behavior.

Her father had kept his word. He had never hit her or Hank. No matter how angry he was with her, he never struck her. He raised his voice of course and they had had several loud arguments in the past, but never once had he caused her pain. She loved her father so much and she knew that he loved her.

He obviously loved Pops and he had every right to do that. Her great-grandfather had saved his grandsons from a brutal man who should have been locked up for what he had done. She was only sixteen years old, but that was old enough to know that not everyone was punished for the evil things that they did. She also knew that it didn't mean they totally escaped justice either. Her mother told her that her father had nothing to do with his father after Pops had taken him into his home and the old man had died in a VA hospital from liver disease. The only one that mourned that man's death was Pops, but only because Edwin Booth and been Pops' son. You always mourn the death of your kids. That's just the human thing to do.

Carefully placing the letter back in to the envelope, Christine sniffed, grabbed a tissue from a box on the dresser and blew her nose. Placing the letter back with the other letters, she put them back in the box and returned the box in its normal resting place.

Moving down the hallway, she entered the kitchen and looked to see if there were ingredients to make brownies. She wanted to make some for her father. His sweet tooth was always getting him into trouble with her mother, but the man deserved brownies once in a while. After all, he was her hero, just like Pops had been her Dad's hero. Of course, her mother was her hero too. She had been blessed to have such great parents and she hoped she would be just as good as they were when she finally had kids of her own.

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Let me know what you think of my story. Thank you.


	33. Chapter 33

(The Brother in the Basement)

A/N: Anne1585 and Viiru requested this story. I hope it's what you wanted.

Note: Let's keep in mind that time on Bones is not very reliable. They did a big jump in time and aged Christine in such a way that she was about seven years old by the time season 11 aired. Hank was born on June 2015 which we know from the certificate on the wall in his bedroom. The age gap can't be helped. Just consider this story to be AU like all of my stories are.

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"Please Bones, I want to see the kids." He felt better than he had been, but that really wasn't saying a lot. He was still in pain and recovering from blood loss. His pain level was being managed and he was grateful for that, but he missed his children. "I promise I'm well enough to see them."

Brennan wasn't sure her children should see their father in the hospital. "It might be too upsetting, Booth. Hank is only five months old and Christine is seven years old. It might be upsetting for them to see their father in the hospital."

His frustration was mounting. "Bones, I'm not dying or anything. Most of the tubes are under the covers and if we time it between my meds I should be able fool them . . . I want to see them . . . please."

She had come very close to losing her husband and partner and it made her heart race just thinking about it. He was still weak and she knew that he was underplaying how badly he had been hurt just like he always did. Brennan was afraid to tax what little strength he had and she worried that seeing Booth in the hospital might be too traumatic for her children. "I think we should wait for a few more days, Booth. You're so pale and you don't hide your pain as well as you think you do. Our children are quite intelligent and they will know you are very sick."

He hated to admit it, but she was right. "Okay . . . I really miss them . . . You and those kids of ours give me strength every day. I love you and I love them so much. The thought of getting back to you guys is what kept me going. I couldn't give up. I had to go home."

"I know and we love you too." Brennan noticed her husband fighting to stay awake. "Rest, Booth. You need rest. I'll be here when you wake up."

His eye lids fluttered and finally closed and in a few moments, he was asleep. Brennan watched him sleep, his chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm. While they had been searching for him, she had feared she would never see him alive and now that he was back, she found it hard to leave his side.

Oooooooooooooooooo

"Mommy!" Christine ran from the living room to the front door. "Mommy, can we go home now? Where's Daddy?"

Brennan smiled at Angela as she leaned over to hug her daughter. "I'm happy to see you Christine." Kissing her, Brennan knew that her daughter didn't understand what was really going on and the child was anxious. "I'm sorry, but your Daddy is still sick and he can't come home right now. I'm helping the nurses to take care of him and that is why I've been away so much."

Hank toddled around the corner, his arms raised. The boy started to cry and his mother knew that he was an unhappy little child. Lifting him into her arms, she kissed him and smiled. "Hank, I've missed you so much." Wiping the tears from his eyes with a tissue that Angela handed her, she tried to assure her son. "Mommy loves you so much Hank."

The boy clutched her shirt and hid his face against her chest. His weeping tore through her, but Brennan didn't know what to do about it. "It won't be long before we can go home. Just . . . just not right now."

Christine stared up at her mother with trembling lips and sniffed. "Is my Daddy gone like Uncle Sweets?"

Gasping in shock, Angela placed her hand against her throat and stared at Brennan.

Brennan carefully knelt on the floor holding her son and placed her free arm around her daughter. "No Christine. Your Daddy is just sick and in the hospital. I promise that he has not gone away like Uncle Sweets."

Afraid her mother was not telling her the truth, Christine stepped away from Brennan and shouted. "I want my Daddy! I want to see my Daddy!" Her voice was rising in hysteria and Brennan knew that her daughter was close to panic.

"Sweetheart, your father is alright."

Before she could say more, Christine shouted. "I want my Daddy! If you won't let me see him then he went away like Uncle Sweets." Crying the girl fled the room, leaving behind a bewildered Brennan and a weeping little boy.

"I don't understand. Why are they so upset? They weren't this upset yesterday." Brennan stood up and stared at her friend. "Angela, why are my children so upset?"

Feeling guilty, Angela hunched her shoulders. "We watched a video of your wedding this morning and when Christine saw Sweets she started to cry. She told me that she thinks Booth is dead and that we won't tell her . . . not in those exact words, but close enough. Of course, once Christine started crying then so did Hank . . . Maybe you should let me take them to the hospital for a visit. I don't think Christine is going to settle down until she sees her father. She thinks we're lying to her about Booth."

Conflicted, Brennan finally nodded her head. "I thought it would be traumatic to see Booth in the hospital, but now I think they're more traumatized not seeing him."

Angela patted Brennan's arm. "I think so too." She knew that protecting the children from the reality of the situation wasn't working. "I think once they see him, they'll settle down. It's the not knowing that's making them afraid and it wasn't that long ago that we lost Sweets. Christine loved her Uncle Sweets."

"Yes." Brennan walked into the living room and spied her daughter lying on the couch, weeping. "Christine . . . I have to go back to the hospital, but Aunt Angela is going to take you and Hank to see your father tonight. You don't need to cry. You'll be able to see for yourself that he is alright."

Sitting up, Christine used the bottom of her blouse to wipe the tears from her face. "Do you promise?"

"I promise."

Oooooooooooooooooooooo

The sights and sounds of the hospital were a little unnerving, but Christine was determined to see her father and if this was where he was then she would be brave and ignore the things she didn't understand. Holding Angela's free hand in a tight grip while the artist carried Hank, Christine was eager to get to her father. It had been four days since her father had disappeared and she had been afraid someone had taken him from her like they had done a year earlier. That summer had been awful and she had feared that she would never see her father again, but her Uncle Sweets had been there for her and he had made a solemn promise that she would see her father soon. He had kept his word and her father had reappeared in her life.

This time when her father had disappeared her Uncle Sweets wasn't there to make promises and she began to fear that her father had died liked her Uncle had. She was terrified that she would never see her father again. Now that she had been promised that she could see him, she began to hope that he really was alright and that he hadn't gone away after all.

Moving down a broad brightly lit hallway, the child noticed some doors were open and there were people lying in beds in these rooms. Some of them seemed very still and very quiet and that made her anxious. Was her Daddy very sick? She hoped not.

Soon they were standing in front of a wide door. Angela released the little girl's hand, knocked twice and opened it. "We're here."

As she entered the room, Christine's gaze swept the room and landed on her father lying on a bed. He looked asleep, but she was so excited to see him that any hopes from Angela that Christine would be quiet went out of the window. "Daddy!"

The girl raced across the room and at the last minute, her mother grabbed her before she could scramble onto the bed.

"Christine! You can't get into bed with your Daddy." Brennan's heart was beating wildly in her chest. It had given her a fright that her daughter had moved so fast. If the child had made it on to the bed and onto Booth, it was possible that she could have injured him. "Your Daddy is sick, Christine."

Booth opened his eyes and smiled at his daughter. "Hey Pumpkin."

Desperate to get to her father, Christine wriggled in her mother's grip. "Please Mommy."

Carefully, Brennan placed the child on the edge of the bed, bracing her from falling to the floor. "You can sit here, Christine. Please don't put any weight on your father's stomach or chest."

She knew that her mother was afraid, Christine could see it in her face. She understood that her father was sick and she needed to protect him. "Okay Mommy." Shifting on the bed, she faced her father, leaned over and patted his cheek. "I missed you Daddy."

"I missed you to, Christine." Booth was so happy to see his daughter and a squeal from the area in front of the door drew his attention towards his son, who was grasping the air with his hands. "Hey Tiger. How's my boy?"

The boy squealed once more and Angela laughed. Moving over to the bed, she placed a chair near the bed, sat down and placed the wriggling toddler's feet on her knees. This allowed the boy to stand and lean forward over the bed. "I haven't seen these two smile for the last four days."

Booth placed his hand on his son's arm. "Bones said you were coming. Thank you for bringing them." He wanted to hold his children, but he knew that was impossible. "Daddy is so happy to see his munchkins."

Christine placed her hand on Booth's thigh and beamed a happy smile. "We've missed you, Daddy." Her voice lowered and she stared at the tube attached to Booth's wrist. "I was afraid you went away like Uncle Sweets."

"Oh, Honey. I'm sorry." Booth had done the best he could to save his brother and he had failed. What made the situation worse was the fact the he had almost died too. To be taken away from his kids now would have been tragic. He thanked God, that Brennan and his friends had not given up looking for him. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise. I'm just a little sick. When I get better I'm going to go home and we can all be together." His son squealed and Booth laughed. "Hank, you are getting so big. I bet they can hear you outside." He ran a finger under the boy's chin. "I love you, Hank." He turned his gaze back upon his daughter. "I love you Christine."

"I love you too, Daddy." Christine was filled with relief. Her father hadn't gone away and he would be home soon. That was all she needed to know. Her father wasn't an angel in heaven and that made her so happy.

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	34. Chapter 34

(After Season 12)

Thank you for reviewing my story. I appreciate it.

I don't own Bones.

Ooooooooooooooooooo

Chester Lyons wondered how this was going to go as he approached Agent Seeley Booth's office. He was considered one of the best lawyers in Baltimore and he did his job no matter who his client is or was, but sometimes he felt that he took on just a little too much. He believed everyone had a right to good representation no matter who they were, but it did leave him open to situations like this one.

Confident that he was doing the right thing meeting Booth in the Hoover, Chester assumed by giving the Agent home field advantage, the man would be more receptive to what was about to happen. Knocking on the office door, Chester waited for Booth to wave him in before he entered the office. "Agent Booth . . . Chester Lyons. I called you yesterday and you said I could see you this afternoon."

Curious, Booth stood up and shook the lawyer's hand before sitting back down. "You didn't really tell me why you wanted to meet with me."

Sitting down on the chair in front of Booth's desk, he placed his brief case on the chair next to him, opened it up and withdrew three folders. "Yes, I thought it would be better if I told you in person." Now facing the agent, Chester smiled and hoped that he wasn't thrown out of the office before he had his say. "One of my clients passed away recently and I was instructed to come to you within a week of his death. Just so you understand what is happening, my client had no relatives or friends. He weighed what was about to happen to him and why and decided that this was the best course of action."

For some reason Booth didn't understand, his senses went on alert. "Who is was your client and what does his death have to do with me?"

"Yes, about that." Chester knew it might get ugly shortly, but he was the best and he would do his job. "My client's name was Jacob Brodsky. As you may know, he was executed three days ago."

A cold chilly hand caressing his spine, Booth sat back. "Why are you here?"

Chester flipped open each folder, checked the top page then closed it. "Last year, when my client lost his appeal, he knew his days on this Earth were coming to an end. He accepted it and he contacted me to help set up his estate. He was worth over $12.5 million dollars and he wanted to avoid letting the state of Maryland get any of it if it could be helped. He left part of his estate, $6.5 million to the Fisher House Military Children Scholarship Program. That left six million to dispose of. Per his request, I set up three trust funds containing two million dollars each in the names of Parker Mathew Booth, Christine Angela Booth and Henry Joseph Booth." He waited to see how Booth would react.

Stunned, Booth stared at the lawyer in disbelief. He wasn't sure what to say or what to think. "I was the one that captured him. I was the reason why he was placed on trial for murder. Why the hell did he give my kids his money?"

"It's complicated as you might surmise, but I do have an explanation." Chester placed the folders on Booth's desk. "He admired you, Agent Booth. He told me that he considered you to be the most honorable man he had ever met. You have a strict code of right and wrong and you never seem to waver from that viewpoint. He did what he did and he was willing to face the consequences of his actions. Brodsky felt that he was ridding the world of dangerous people and that what he did wasn't wrong, but that is neither here nor there. As I told you he had no heirs, so he decided to leave part of his estate to your children. He hopes that will allow them to pursue the future they're meant to have. There is only one string attached to the trust funds. If they choose to go to college, their trust fund will pay for everything including housing and day to day expenses. Once they are thirty years old the rest of the funds will be made available to them to with as they wish. If they choose not to go to college then they will have to wait until they are thirty years old to have access to the money. He was afraid that if they received the money at an earlier age it might corrupt them."

"What if I refuse to accept this bequest?" Booth didn't think he wanted his children to inherit blood money. "He murdered people to get that money. The money is tainted."

He didn't care where the money came from. That had nothing to do with what was happening now. "You have no legal standing in this matter. You may not decline the bequest for your children. The money is strictly in the names of your children. They may refuse the bequest on their 30th birthday, but that is their decision and no one else's. If one of them should die before their 30th birthday then the money will be divided between the surviving siblings. I came to you just as a formality to let you know about the inheritance. If your children go to college then their expenses will be taken care of. If not, I will contact them on their 30th birthday and turn over their inheritance. Parker Booth will be entering university later this year. He reaches his majority this week, so I will be contacting him soon, to set up an expense account for his education if he wants it."

Feeling that the world was spinning out of control, Booth just stared at the lawyer for a few moments. "Alright, you've had your say. I won't thank you since I don't want Brodsky's money going to my kids, but I guess you have that all figured out."

"I do." Chester stood up. "You may keep the folders. They're just copies of the legal documents in my safe keeping . . . Brodsky didn't hate you Agent Booth. He considered you a friend before he started on his missions. Even after you arrested him, he didn't hate you. He felt you were merely an instrument of the state and you were doing your job. It was to be expected. He also wanted me to tell you that he really had meant to kill you in the shipyard before his arrest, but if that had happened, he would have made sure that your son Parker was taken care of financially. He didn't consider himself to be a bad man. He was merely an instrument of God. He removed evil people from this world." With that, Chester picked up his briefcase and left leaving behind a bewildered FBI agent.

Oooooooooooooooooooo

Booth entered the house and handed the folders to Brennan. Moving over to the bar, he poured himself a glass of Scotch and drank it down.

After skimming through the folders, Brennan walked over to the bar and sat down. "This is unexpected."

"Yeah." Booth poured another glass of Scotch, grabbed an empty glass and poured his wife a glass of the amber liquid. "I wanted to turn it down because it's dirty money, but I can't. The money is in the kids' names with the lawyer Chester Lyons as the executor. When they're thirty they can turn it down if they don't want it."

Brennan snorted. "They will not turn it down, Booth."

"No, why should they?" He hated Brodsky and the man had known it. "He did this because he knew I hated him and what he stood for. He thought I wasn't any better than he was and he did this to make a point . . . the bastard . . . He had to have the last laugh."

Their association with Brodsky had taken one bizarre turn after another. "You still own the property that Brodsky bought in your name."

"Yeah, I'm still paying taxes on it." Booth sipped some of his Scotch. "I was going to give the land to Parker as a graduation present, but now that he's going to inherit a bunch of money, I may donate the land instead." Irritated, he leaned against the bar. "I should have killed Brodsky while I had the chance."

"You don't mean that." Brennan knew that Booth was just venting his anger. "You aren't like Brodsky. You're not a murderer."

And that had been on his mind when he had Brodsky in his sites in the shipyard. He was not a murderer and the assassin wasn't going to turn him into one. Now he had to deal with the murderers strange since of humor. "I'm not going to tell the kids about the money until I have to. As soon as Mr. Lloyd talks to Parker, I'm going to ask him to not mention it to his sister and brother. I want them to work hard in school and to get a decent education. If they decide to go to college then they'll find out about the money. I don't want the money to be a crutch."

"Alright." Brennan couldn't find anything wrong in her husband's logic. "I had planned on using my money for their education . . . I find that I dislike Jacob Brodsky more now that he is dead than I did when he was alive. He is manipulating our family . . . I do not like it."

Booth raised his glass and saluted Brennan. "Neither do I Bones. Neither do I."

Ooooooooooooooooooo

Let me know what you think of my story. Thank you.


	35. Chapter 35

A/N: Sorry it's been a while, but working on four stories at one time kept me from updating this one. This is a sequel to chapter 34.

Thank for for reviewing my story. I appreciate it.

I don't own Bones.

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Parker had had a life changing phone call from a lawyer named Chester Lyons and he was stunned to think about all the possibilities now that he didn't have to worry about money while he was going to school. He had always wanted to be a writer and his mother tried to support him, but she didn't see how he could earn a living writing as a profession and she had talked him into getting a major in law or accounting and a minor in writing. Since the original plan had been for her to pay for most of his education and his father contributing to rent, daily expenses and the purchase of a car, he had felt compelled to take their advice, but now . . . now he had money to support him through school and he could concentrate on learning to write and making that his major. He thought he might minor in accounting since it made sense to have other skills, but that he would not have to be an accountant was fine by him. His education was now under his control and it was very freeing. It was a dream come true. "Thank you, Mr. Lyons."

 _Don't thank me young man. I'm just doing my job. I'll be in London next week possibly Wednesday. I'll either drop by your home to have you sign some paperwork or we can arrange to meet somewhere. Just remember, you're eighteen years old as of yesterday, so you do not need your parent's permission to accept this bequest. If you do choose to turn it down then that of course is your privilege. Nothing will happen until your thirtieth birthday when you must decide whether you want the two million dollars or not. If you don't want it, it will be divided and placed in your sister and brother's account._

"Oh, I want the money, Mr. Lyons. It will take the pressure off of me to be an immediate success. Writing doesn't work like that." The shock of hearing about his good fortune was wearing off and all he felt now was a sense of peace. "I don't know who Jacob Brodsky is, but that's okay. I'll put his money to good use."

 _Good. I'll see you next week._

The call ended, Parker sat down on his bed and shook his head in amazement. He had wanted to be a writer for so long, but his mother had placed some doubts in him about his choice of career. Now that he was in control of the next four years of his life he'd be able to concentrate on getting his college education the way he wanted to. Of course, he'd have to have some kind of income once he graduated until he turned thirty and he knew it was unrealistic to think he could do it solely writing. He hoped he was a success right out of the gate, but he knew that was very unlikely. He was hoping to get an internship at a publishing company once he graduated. Bones had told him that she could arrange that for him with her publisher, but that would mean he would have to move back to the States. It would be a great way to be exposed to how books are written, edited and accepted for publishing. This money was a blessing and he would not waste it or the opportunity. Whoever Brodsky was, he'd pray for him the next time he was in church.

Ooooooooooooooooooo

The call was unexpected, "Dad, I was going to call you tomorrow."

 _Yeah and I probably know why. Did Chester Lyons call you this week?_

"Yes, he did." He should have known his father would know about the call and his good fortune. "You know about my inheritance?"

 _Yeah, I do. Mr. Lyons gave me a heads up last week. He told me he was going to call you and I figured he'd wait until your birthday. I wanted to make sure he made the call before I talked to you._

"Who was Jacob Brodsky?" That was the question Parker needed answered. It was odd that someone had left him an inheritance and he didn't know who he was. "I've never heard you talk about him before. Was he a friend of yours?"

 _No, he wasn't a friend of mine. He was a paid assassin. I was the one who arrested him for murder. During his killing spree, he killed an intern of Bones. He was trying to kill me when he did it._

"Oh my God." Parker found this whole thing to be surreal. "Why would he leave your children an inheritance? It doesn't make any sense."

 _It kind of does . . . He was a friend of mine in the Army. He was a Ranger and one of the best. For some reason I'll never understand, he decided that it was okay to kill bad people for money. The problem with that besides the fact that he was murdering people for money was the fact that he didn't mind killing innocent people if they got in the way. He killed two innocent people that I know of going after someone else. He called them collateral damage._

He felt overwhelmed. To find out that your dead benefactor was a murderer was macabre. "But why make me his heir?"

 _Jacob Brodsky thought it would be funny I guess. The man never considered what he had done as bad since he was trying to get rid of evil people and he thought that I was wrong for stopping him from doing it. I think giving you a pile of money was his way of punishing me._

Parker thought about it. "Maybe not . . . what if he gave us the money as a way to apologize for what he had done and to make sure his money was put to good use? Mr. Lyons told me that a lot of Jacob Brodsky's money went to the Fisher House Military Children Scholarship Program and the rest went to me and the kids. We can have a free college education and when we hit thirty we can have the rest of the money. He gave the money to children, Dad. He may have been evil, but he might have been thinking of the future and what he could do to make that future brighter to kind of make up for what he did."

 _So, you're going to accept the money? You don't have to. Your mother and I were going to cover college and living expenses._

"I am going to take the money, Dad." Parker was worried that he was letting his father down, but he thought he could turn Brodsky's blood money into something good. "I can go after the degree that I want and you and Mom don't have to pay for it. Once I'm established in my field and I get the rest of my money, I might be able to put that money to good use. I can do good things with that money, Dad. It would be foolish to turn it down."

 _Well, you're officially an adult this week, so it's your decision to make . . . Don't tell the kids about the inheritance. I need them to have a normal childhood and I need them to work hard in school. If they think they can just skip through school because of the money . . . well, that won't be doing them any favors and you know it. The fact that they have a lot of money coming to them needs to be kept a secret until they get out of high school._

"That seems fair to me, Dad." Parker had gone to school with some spoiled rich children who had almost driven him crazy. They acted like the world should bow down to them because their parents were rich or had a title next to their name. He never hung out with those kids and ignored their petty lunacy when he could. "I won't say a thing to them about their inheritance . . . Don't worry about this Dad. It's not going to spoil me. Now that I know my college education is taken care of as well as expenses . . . well, I can concentrate on school and what I need to do to prepare for when I graduate . . . I want to write Dad. I have all of these ideas in my head and I want to share them with everyone. I have a notebook filled with story ideas. This is important to me."

 _I know. You should see Bones when she's working on a story idea. She has this big acrylic board that she uses to collect her notes on. She fills up the space with post it notes. She works out the entire plot with the notes before she ever starts writing her novel. It's amazing. She's sold a lot of books and she's still coming up with story ideas. She's got a notebook like you do._

"I really admire her." Parker loved his step-mother. She was a warm and caring person and he fell in love with her when he was a small boy. "She works full time, she's a full time parent and she writes for magazines and she writes novels. She's a fantastic role model."

 _She really is . . . I won't say anything else about the money. It's your decision to make. I'll back you no matter what you do with the money . . . You're right. You can do a lot of good things with that money . . . just don't use it as a crutch. Work hard, write the things you need to write and don't worry about whether or not you ever get published. I hope you do, but it won't be shameful if you don't. At least you'll have tried. That's the important thing. I always want you to try. I'm proud of you Parker and I'll always have your back._

"Thanks Dad." Parker knew that he could count on his father. He always could. "I love you."

 _I love you too, Parker._

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Let me know what you think of my story. Thank you.


	36. Chapter 36

A/N: this is a sequel to chapter 32. Anne1585 and bookwarmlady wanted more of this arc. I hope this is what you wanted.

I really don't own Bones.

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Curiosity drawing her back to the box, Christine waited until her parents left the house to go see a movie. It was date night for them and that meant that Hank was in the living room playing video games and she was free to look in her father's keepsake box.

As quiet as possible, she drew the drapes across the glass wall, so that Hank wouldn't see her in the room. She wanted to enjoy reading the letters in the box without her little brother interrupting her. Once the drapes were drawn, she opened the closet and removed the keepsake box from the top shelf. Placing it on her parent's bed, she sat down and rummaged through the box until she found the pile of envelopes with the faded blue ribbon around them. Flipping through the letters she had already read, she was left with two. Removing the second to last one, she removed the letter from the envelope and read it.

 _Dear Pops_

 _I am so sorry. I never dreamed this would go this far, but it has and now I'm sitting in prison waiting to go on trial for murder. I can honestly tell you that I didn't murder anyone. I was attacked in my own home and I defended it and myself. If you hear anything different just remember who I am. I haven't changed Pops. I still love my country and the rule of law. You can count on that._

 _I know you want to know what is going on, but all I can tell you is that this is a mess and it's going to take a lot of work to fix it. Bones can probably tell you more about it than I can._

 _My lawyer tells me that I'm not being allowed visitors right now. They told him that I'm being uncooperative and I'm in isolation most of the time which is a lie. I think they just want to keep me isolated from my family and friends. At first, my lawyer couldn't see me either, but Judge Watkins put a stop to that. Don't worry about this. I don't need visitors. I know that you guys are out there and as long as you're okay then I'm fine being by myself._

 _I want you to take care of yourself, Pops. Don't worry about me or Bones. I can take care of myself and Bones can take care of herself and Christine. You just make sure you're okay and pray for me when you get the chance. This is going to work out Pops. I promise and when it does I'll come by to see you first thing. We'll drink a Coke and have some peanut butter sandwiches and talk about your friend James Rawlings. He was a great guy and I wish I had got to meet him. Maybe we can go out to Arlington and visit him on his birthday. I'm counting on you taking care of yourself. Don't worry._

 _I'm going to give this letter to my lawyer to make sure you get it. If you can write back that would be great, but give it to Bones and let my lawyer bring it to me. Thanks._

 _I love you_

 _Seeley_

This letter took her back to when she was five years old and her father had disappeared from her life for several months. No one would explain to her what was happening. Her mother and her Uncle Sweets had said that her father had gone on a trip and he was going to be gone for a while. They had moved to the new house with the help of her Uncle Sweets and to her surprise her Uncle Jared had put in some hours moving furniture around the house. It had been a confusing time for her which just had added to her fears. She had been afraid that her father wouldn't know where their new house was when he came back from his trip. Her mother had cried many nights when she thought her daughter was asleep. The crying, her father's absence, the new house had all added up to a miserable, fear filled summer.

It was several years later before she found out what had really happened and she appreciated how her mother had tried to protect her. The truth would have been worse than the reality she had been living at the time. The happiest day of her life was when her father came back home. She had been so afraid she'd never see him again.

Careful to place the letter back into the envelope, she turned to the last letter and noticed it was from her great-grandfather to her father. It was dated a week after her father had sent his letter and two weeks before Pops had died.

 _Dear Seeley,_

 _Thank you for writing to me. First things first. Don't apologize to me for what's going on. I know who you are and I know that something is wrong. You're no murderer and I'm sure this will be straightened out soon. I saw Temperance the other day and she's looking good. A little tired, but we have to expect that. She gave me as much information as she could. The whole thing is weird, but I think with her on your side this will be taken care of soon._

 _Don't give up, Shrimp. Be strong. We love you and we're waiting for you to come home soon. Don't worry about me. I'm fine. My reflux is bothering me, but that's nothing new. I just need to cut down on spicy food again. I don't want you to worry about anyone except yourself. You do everything you can to survive in there and we'll do what we can out here to get you home._

 _You have always been a joy to me, Seeley. I've loved you like a son and I have always been proud of you. I'm so proud of you now and I hope to see you soon._

 _Love, Pops._

Christine realized that she was crying and placed the letter back into the envelope before she got it wet. Brushing the tears from her cheeks, she placed the box back onto the top shelf in the closet, turned and found her father leaning against the doorframe.

"You do know that this is my room and that everything in here belongs to either me or your mother?" He had noticed she had been reading the letters with the blue ribbon around them, so he knew why she was crying. "You don't see me looking through your keepsake box, do you?" His voice was low and emotionless.

Embarrassed, Christine felt her cheeks burning. "I'm sorry, it's just that I found the box a few weeks ago and you have so many secrets in your past, things you won't talk about to me and I just wanted to know what they are."

Slowly shaking his head, Booth entered the room, moved over to the closet, took the box down and shoved it into his daughter's arms. "Then by all means. God forbid I have secrets from you." His expressionless face seemed almost menacing and yet Christine knew that she shouldn't fear him. He loved her.

He left the room and Christine knew that he was angry. So angry that he couldn't stay in the same room with her.

The slamming of the front door told her that her father had left the house. Before she could leave the room, Brennan walked into the room. "Why are you in here and why are you holding your father's keepsake box? Is that why he left the house?"

"Why aren't you at the movies?" Christine felt overwhelmed with her mother's questions and tried to deflect.

"Booth forgot his wallet and we came back for it . . . answer my questions." Brennan knew that her daughter didn't always honor boundaries, but Booth had assured her that most teenagers did that. Now she wasn't so sure. This seemed to be beyond the pale.

"I found the box a few weeks ago and I've been reading the letters inside when I can." Christine placed the box on the bed. "He never wants to talk to me about the past. He's always saying that the past is the past and we have to live in the present, but Mom, I have so many questions and no one will talk to me. I tried to talk to you about when Dad was gone for the summer when I was five, but you just brushed me off. I told you before that I know about Dad being in prison. I found out when I did a search on the internet. My goodness, all you have to do is put Dad's name in a search engine and there are tons of news articles about him and you. I just want to know what happened while he was in prison. Why is that a secret?"

Brennan was angry. "Do you really need to hear him talk about the beatings he suffered from almost every day? The isolation, the loneliness, the feeling of betrayal? Why do you need to know about that? Why do you have to know everything about us? Your lack of respect for our privacy is quite disturbing." Brennan picked up the box and held against her chest. "Yes, I'm sure there are a lot of things printed on social media about your father and me and some of it may actually be true . . . I have told you all that I think you need to know. You don't need to know everything Christine. We aren't toys for you to play with."

That was a cutting thing to say. Her mother had never talked to her this harshly before. "I'm not treating anyone like a toy. When Dad was in prison I was scared the whole time he was gone. You said he was on a trip, but at night, when you thought I was asleep, I could hear you crying. I was afraid, Mom, but I tried to be brave. Now that I'm older and I know what happened no one will talk about it. Dad, you, Uncle Hodgins and Angela, Uncle Aubrey, you all change the subject. Well I was part of it all. I was the one scared out of her mind hoping that I'd see my father again . . . I cried so much that summer, just like you . . . I want someone talk to me about it. I want to know if what happened to my father was his fault or not. Some of the newspaper articles call him a hero, but only after Glen Durant was arrested. Before that they called him a murderer and a traitor . . . I want someone to talk to me."

Brennan shook her head. "Your father is a hero, Christine and someone you can be proud of. Your father was betrayed by the government he loved and trusted. Glen Durant was attempting a coup of our government and he felt that Booth was too dangerous to live, so he ordered men to attack your father. They meant to kill him, but your father is a brave resourceful man and he was too much for them to handle. They were forced to accuse him of murder because their attempt to kill him had been thwarted. Your father was held in prison and he was abused almost every day. Eventually, I was able to rescue him from prison and we brought Durant down. These are the facts and they are all you need to know . . . Your father is right. The past is the past and it is too painful to dwell upon . . . Never touch anything in this room again without permission. This keepsake box belongs to Booth. Not to me, not to you, not to anyone else. Never touch it again." She placed the box on the top shelf and turned to face her daughter. "I know you are inquisitive and that can be a good thing, but invading someone else's privacy is not. We are allowed to have our secrets just like you are allowed to have yours."

Christine knew that her mother had closed the subject and that it was final. What she had read in the letters would be all she would ever know about that dark time and she would have to accept it. "I didn't mean to make Dad mad. I was counting on reading the letters while you were gone. I'm sorry."

"I hope that you are." Brennan knew she would have to talk to Booth. His storming out of the house meant he was furious. She knew she would be able to calm him down. It was one of her super powers. Booth had once told her that everyone has at least one super power. You just have to find it and use that power wisely. She would probably find him at the bus stop. That was where he usually walked to when he was angry with someone in the family. Sweets would have probably had something to say about that, but Brennan knew that he walked down to the bus stop because his feet usually hurt if he walked too far. As he got older his feet seemed to hurt him more. Sometimes there were no ulterior meanings about the actions we take. Sometimes it just means that your feet hurt. Sweets never really did understand that.

Oooooooooooooooooooooo

Let me know what you think of my story. Thank you.


	37. Chapter 37

A/N: I had several readers ask for a sequel to chapter 36. I hope this is what you wanted.

I don't own Bones.

Ooooooooooooooooooooo

She found him sitting on the bench at the bus stop. His eyes were closed, his hands were in his jacket pockets and he was leaning back against the bench. "Are you alright?"

Not moving or opening his eyes, Booth responded. "Someday I'm going to get on the bus when it stops."

Curious, Brennan cocked her head to the side. "And where would you go?"

"To the end of the line."

Moving closer to the bench, she sat down next to her husband. "And what would you do then?"

"I'd call you to come and get me." Booth opened his eyes and placed his hand on her thigh.

"Thank you for letting me know. I'd be worried if I came down here and you weren't here." Brennan hooked her arm around his arm. "She's sixteen years old and she has a lot of questions . . . Some of the things we went through were also things she went through . . . I'm afraid I was impatient with her when I found her with your keepsake box . . . the things she wants to know are the things we want to forget."

Staring at the house across the street, Booth wondered if all families were as complicated as his was. "I try to protect them. Christine and Hank are still children . . . hell, I've never really talked to Parker about a lot of the things that happened to me either . . . As a parent you want to protect your kids. You don't want them to know about the horrible things that happen in the world, but somehow, they find out anyway . . . Computers make it easier for them than it was for us when we were kids. I've googled my name, who hasn't and the shit I see on there makes me sick. Half of it isn't even true especially when I was arrested for murder . . . our kids are seeing that stuff and they want to know if their Dad is a monster or not, but I don't know how to talk to them . . . Christine is almost an adult, but Hank is still a little boy . . . Parker is a man and he probably can handle it, but I don't know if I can handle it . . . Maybe I shouldn't have kept the letters."

"No Booth." Brennan turned her head and looked at the side of his face. "No, you have a right to keep letters if you want them. We both have keepsake boxes and we've never had to worry about them being opened by someone else, but our children are bright and intelligent. They want to know about us, but we don't really talk about our pasts too often . . . Parker and Christine know about my parents abandoning me when I was fifteen. They remember Dad and they remember when he was murdered and why . . . they know that Edwin Booth was an alcoholic that abused his sons and his wife, but Hank doesn't know those things yet. He doesn't really remember my father . . . How do we know when it's right to tell them things that might affect them in negative ways?"

"I don't know Bones." Booth slowly rubbed his forehead with his right hand. "I don't know why, but I thought I could keep everything in my past a secret from my children, but that was just wishful thinking I guess . . . It took me years to tell you about my Dad . . . I hate talking about the past. I . . . I don't know what to do about Christine. I can't really punish her. She just looked at some old letters trying to understand me, but she invaded my privacy . . . I get that she wants answers, but what about what I want?"

Brennan leaned against him and sighed. "Being a parent isn't very easy. Most of the time I enjoy being a parent, but sometimes . . . it's difficult."

Chuckling, Booth patted her thigh. "Yeah, you've hit the nail on the head. I love being a father. It's one of the best things that ever happened to me . . . Well, besides us getting together . . . Let's go back to the house. I need to think about how to handle our daughter. She's too much like you, Bones. Smart, inquisitive, brave . . . charges in where angels fear to tread." Moving his arm, he stood up and turned to face his partner. "Come on. Unless you want to take a bus ride, we need to leave. The bus should be here in a few minutes."

Taking his offered hand, Brennan stood up. "I'll help you talk to Christine if you'd like me too."

"Thanks Bones. I may need you there as back up."

Oooooooooooooooooooo

They found their daughter in the living room, texting one of her friends. As they entered the room, Christine turned off her phone and placed it on the coffee table. "Am I being grounded."

Booth sat on the chair near the fireplace and Brennan sat on the other end of the couch. Once he was settled, Booth leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. "Should you be?"

Careful how she answered the question, Christine kept in mind that her mother could be quite literal. "I don't know." She saw her father shake his head and she wondered if she had said the wrong thing.

Not really sure where to begin, Booth chewed the inside of his cheek for a few seconds. Leaning back against the chair, he crossed his arms against his chest. "You're having a bad year this year . . . stealing my car and trying to drive it to New York . . . Parker told me about you drinking wine while you were visiting him earlier this summer . . . Your mother and I debated talking to you about it when you got back, but Parker says he handled it and we decided to wait and see if you had learned your lesson."

Her cheeks were scarlet. She hadn't known that her brother had told her parents about her drinking wine with her new friend while she had been in New York. It had been a mistake and not one she was going to repeat. "Parker gave me the talk when he caught me drinking wine . . . about your father and Jared being alcoholics and you being a gambler . . . I'm not a loser like Jared and your father. I just wanted to try wine that's all. I didn't even like it very much . . . Parker says we need to be careful because there's something wrong with the Booth genes and we can become addicted to stuff if we're not careful. I get it. I don't want to be like them."

He prayed that was true. "I know you think you're an adult, but Christine you're not. Sixteen is still a child whether you like it or not. You need to understand that with adulthood comes responsibilities. . . . Invading my privacy was a childish thing to do. You don't see your mother looking into my keepsake box and you'll never see me look at her keepsakes unless she wants me to. We give each other room to have secrets. We don't need to know everything. Some memories are painful and best forgotten or at least thought about sparingly. What you did was offensive and disrespectful."

"Dad, I wasn't trying to be disrespectful. I really wasn't . . . I know awful things happened to you and to Mom in the past. I've seen some of it online. Some of it was awful and I talked to Aunt Angela about it, but some stuff she won't talk about either. She says I'm too young to understand, but I'm not . . . I've seen the scars on your stomach and chest . . . on your feet. I . . . I read that you were a traitor and a murderer and then I read that you were a hero and had saved our country from something really bad. Mom . . . I've seen where she was accused of murder when I was a baby and then I've seen articles that said she wasn't a murderer and that she was set up. Don't you see how confusing that is to me. I want to understand what happened to you both. I want to understand why my Uncle Sweets was murdered . . . I have so many questions."

His daughter sounded so desperate and he wondered how he had let this situation get this far. "Yeah . . . You have questions and your mother and I have decided to try to answer some of them . . . You can ask questions, but we reserve the right to answer them or not. If we do answer, it will be honestly. Now . . . go ahead and ask your questions."

Shocked that her father was actually going to tell her something about his past, answer her questions, she didn't know where to start. "When I was five years old you went away. I didn't really know why and I wasn't sure I believed Mom when she said you were on a trip because she cried almost every night. I was so afraid I'd never see you again. I was afraid you might be in heaven. A few years ago, I read online about you being in prison, but it's all jumbled up and I'm not sure I understand what really happened."

Not really surprised, Booth looked at his wife and gave her a sad smile. "You said you've gone online and checked on stories printed about me and your mother . . . just so you know, most of those stories are garbage." He turned his attention back to his daughter. "I've seen them too . . . When you were five years old . . . I was in prison at the time. Your mother and I . . . Uncle Jack and Aunt Angela, Aunt Cam . . . Uncle Sweets . . . we were investigating a murder that led to a serial killer and from there . . . we stumbled upon a group of people that were trying to do a coup against the United States . . . Glen Durant was the head of that group and he wanted to shut down our investigation. He didn't want anyone to know about him and his perverted cause. He decided to make an example of me to scare off everyone else . . . several thugs broke into my house . . . the mighty hut, the house we lived in before this one and they tried to kill me. I killed them instead and after it was done, I was arrested and accused of murdering FBI Agents trying to serve a bench warrant on me. It wasn't true. They were ex-Navy Seals . . . Mercenaries and dishonorable men. They hurt me, badly and your mother who was supposed to be away from the house, came back and saved me . . . When I didn't die, I was put in prison."

Christine was both fascinated and appalled. "But wouldn't they have had records proving that they weren't FBI agents?"

Booth's laughter was not mirthful. "Durant had a lot of people in high places under his control and I guess someone covered their tracks. They fed the FBI a lie and the FBI accepted it. I don't really know why or how, I just know I was in prison . . . I was an FBI agent in prison. You don't know what that means, but it's bad. The convicts used me as a punching bag when they could and the prison guards looked the other way when they did it. They didn't give a shit what was done to me. They'd have been happy if I'd died . . . Your mother found a way to get me out and I got my old job back at the FBI . . . Jack, Angela, Sweets, Cam, your mother and me . . . we tried to figure out what was going on and eventually we figured out that Glen Durant was behind the whole thing. Your Uncle Sweets was murdered while we were trying to get at the traitors and your Uncle Aubrey joined our team and helped us to bring down Durant and his group of sell outs. It was the saddest thing I ever had to do to tell you about Sweets dying. I know you loved him and he loved you. You were just five years old and I had to tell you that you'd never see your Uncle again."

Swallowing back tears, Christine sniffed and licked her lips. "I remember when you told me that Uncle Sweets had gone to heaven. I didn't get to say good-bye."

"He was a brave man, Sweetheart. He was doing his job and Durant had him murdered to stop him." Booth paused and stared at Brennan. He was worried that he was giving his daughter too much information.

Brennan saw her husband hesitate and tried to help him. "A lot of the bad things that were printed about your father was done during this time. Durant tried to ruin your father's and my reputation to keep himself safe. There are a lot of evil men and women in this world Christine. Your father and I try to stop them. It leaves us vulnerable sometimes . . . The scars on your father's body prove what a brave man he is. He is a warrior and you should be proud of him."

"I am proud of him and of you." Christine looked down at her hands. "I miss Pops and Uncle Sweets and Uncle Jared . . . I know how Uncle Jared died and why . . . but he loved you Dad." She looked up and gave her father a slight smile. "When you were away, he helped Mom and Uncle Sweets with this house. He moved furniture and mowed the lawn. He played with me sometimes. He didn't like to play with my dolls like Uncle Sweets did, but he played tag with me and we played board games. I'd ask him when you were coming home and he would always tell me that you were doing important work and you'd come home when you could. He told me that you were the best big brother ever and he missed you."

His throat thick with emotion, Booth found himself unable to say anything for a few moments. "I didn't know that. I knew that your Uncle Sweets helped your mother a lot."

Brennan crossed her arms against her chest. "Jared asked me not to mention him being here. He had lost his job at the dealership and he didn't want you to think badly of him. Sweets and I shopped for new furniture and Jared helped us set up the new beds and transfer some of the things I salvaged from the Mighty Hut to here. He hated that the back yard had bare spots and he came over ever week to work on it. He reseeded the lawn and kept it mowed. He didn't want you to worry about it when you came back home . . . I should have told you before now, but I wanted to keep my word to Jared."

A few tears escaped from his eyes and ran down his cheeks. Brushing them aside, Booth swallowed. "I'm glad you told me now . . . Christine do you have any more questions?"

Wise enough to know that her father and mother were upset, Christine shook her head. "No. Thank you for talking to me. I'm sorry that you went through what you went through. It all makes sense now. Thank you." Standing, she grabbed her phone and left the room.

Once she was out of the room, Brennan left the couch walked over to where her husband was sitting and knelt in front of him. Placing her hands on his knees she stared at his tear stained face. "This talk was more painful than I imagined it would be."

Leaning forward, he brushed his hand against her cheek. "I love you Bones. We've been through so much and yet here we are. Still together."

Brennan stood up and smiled at her partner and husband. "Where else would I be?"

Her love had always kept him going. Standing he pulled her into his arms and hugged her. "Nowhere, Bones. You and me . . . we're going to get our 40 or 50 years, just so you know that."

Placing her arms around his chest, Brennan leaned against him. "I do know that . . . I love you Booth. I love you . . . You know we'll probably have to go through this again with Hank."

"Yeah." Booth placed his forehead on her shoulder. "Maybe we won't have to tell him. You know Christine will probably tell him and that will be that . . . I really should have this talk with Parker. I told him I would talk to him about my past when he had to shave. He's been shaving for a while and I've put it off . . . He deserves to know . . . Thanks for telling me about Jared." He felt more tears fall and seep into his wife's blouse. He didn't try to stop them. He had few good memories about his brother, but him taking care of Brennan and the lawn was the best memory he could have. "He wasn't a loser, he was just lost most of the time."

Oooooooooooooooooooo

Let me know what you think of my story. Thank you.

A/N: Christine's adventure in New York is next.


	38. Chapter 38

(In the Future)

Thank you for reviewing my story. I appreciate it.

I don't own Bones.

Oooooooooooooooooooo

Sometimes being eleven years older than his sister and 16 years older than his brother was a burden. There were times when he felt more like a parent than their brother.

When Parker had graduated from university, Brennan had come through for him and got him a job at a publishing house in New York. It had been exciting and once he was settled, he had brought his wife over. She had found a job quickly enough and they were happy.

Parker had assumed that once he was in the states that he would be able to see his family whenever he wanted to, but that was before he found out that his work schedule and Dene's didn't match up. Between them, the only day they had off together was on Sunday and they had a lot of personal things to take care of on that day which meant few trips to Washington D.C.

Observing Parker's phone calls to his father and the rest of the family, Dene knew that her husband wanted to be with his family when he could and she had encouraged him to go alone and not worry about leaving her behind. He had appreciated her offer, but Parker felt that was a poor way to treat her and refused to do it.

Determined to fix the problem, Dene invited Christine to come to New York to stay with her and Parker for the summer. She had checked with her in-laws first and they had agreed that it might be an excellent idea to separate Christine from her little brother for a while since all they did was argue and bicker. The fact that Hank had become so annoyed with his sister just before school let out for the summer that he had thought it was okay to head butt her was all that was needed to give Christine permission for the trip. Brennan didn't understand why her children fought with each other so much, but she found the idea of a peaceful summer attractive. Booth was at the end of his patience and hoped separating his younger children would allow them to calm down. At least there would be peace in the house for a few months.

Once Christine was in New York, Dene and Parker did their best to entertain her when they weren't at work. While Parker and Dene were away at work, they expected Christine to stay in the apartment. They were responsible for her safety and they both feared how Booth and Brennan would react if anything happened to their daughter while in their care.

Of course, being 16 years old, Christine didn't want to be buried in an apartment when there was so much to see and do. Earlier that spring, she and Emma had tried to drive up to New York City to meet some guys they had met online and to see a play. That hadn't gone well since she had been stopped in Elkton, Maryland for a burned-out tail light on her father's car, the car she had technically stolen since she didn't ask to borrow it. Christine knew that the situation could have turned out much worse, but her father had managed to talk the Sheriff into charging her with a misdemeanor. Grateful that she didn't have a criminal record, she had learned her lesson about lying to her father and mother.

Now that she was in New York, she wanted to see some of the sights, eat at famous restaurants and have enough adventures to share with Emma when she got back home. Of course, if it made her best friend green with envy how would that be her fault?

Her brother and sister-in-law had jobs and worked five days a week, but there were three days when one of them was home on a day off. That meant that if Christine wanted to explore the city by herself, she would have to do it during one of the four days when they were both at work.

She had a generous allowance and had saved quite a bit of it in her little pink bank over the years. When she had been given permission to live with Parker for two months, she had emptied out her safe and brought her savings with her. That meant she had money for the subway, buses and the occasional taxi. She could afford the entry fees to museums, art galleries, the Empire State Building and of course she had to visit Time Square. She meant to see the things she had read about and dreamed about. This was a dream come true and she would take advantage of it.

The first few weeks were interesting. Christine had visited several museums and fell in love with the Brooklyn Botanic Garden and The American Museum of Natural History. Determined to go back and revisit them, she made her way back to the Botanic Garden and while she was there made a friend. Robert Tiller was six years older than she was and once he found that out, he was careful how he handled their friendship. He loved to be around younger people, but as a healthy mature adult, he didn't want to appear to be too interested in her. That wouldn't be too good for him or her. Over the next few days they met at various art galleries and ate lunch before going on their separate ways for the rest of the day. Robert enjoyed Christie's enthusiasm and their conversations took wild turns and bends which amused Robert very much.

Their friendship blossomed and Christine felt comfortable around Robert. She reminded him of her brother Parker and was amazed that someone like Robert was interested in being her friend. Careful always to be back home before her brother or Dene came back home, Christine always made sure she was on the way home by 2 p.m. After she arrived, she usually started cooking dinner and had it ready by the time Parker and Dene made it home. Her parents were excellent cooks and they had been teaching their daughter how to cook since she was thirteen.

After cooking simple dinners for days, she decided to make an elaborate dinner for her family. Once she searched the cabinets in the kitchen, she realized that she didn't have all of the ingredients she needed to make the dishes she wanted to make. Leaving the apartment, she hurried down to the corner market and shopped for ingredients. While she was there, she met a young lady that was buying wine. Christine wanted to use some white wine in one of her dishes, but being sixteen, she couldn't legally buy any. The young lady offered to buy a bottle of wine for her and a new friendship had started.

On the days she didn't meet Robert she joined her friend Kathy and they explored shops and boutiques in the area. Kathy worked in one of the boutiques four days a week and on her days off she took Christine window shopping then to lunch at small family restaurants in the neighborhood.

Unware of what was going on, Parker was always amazed how neat the apartment was when he came home considering a teenage girl was living there. Feeling guilty that he wasn't spending enough time with his sister, one day Parker took off around lunch time and found the apartment empty when he arrived home. Furious and worried, he wasn't sure where to search for Christine, but decided he couldn't sit home waiting for her to come back. After trying her phone several times and being shunted to voice mail, Parker left the apartment and started walking through the neighborhood. He was sure he wouldn't find her, but he knew he needed to make sure she was safe and sitting at home wasn't an option.

Oddly enough, he had luck finding her at a little Italian bistro four blocks from his apartment. His sister was dining with an older girl . . . woman? And both of them were drinking a glass of red wine. Furious, Parker charged into the restaurant, grabbed his sister's arm and pulled her up from her chair. "How dare you, Christine? You're sixteen years old. You're not old enough to drink wine. What's the matter with you? What do you think Dad would say if he saw you drinking wine?"

Mortified that her brother had embarrassed her, Christine yanked her arm from his grasp, slapped his face and ran from the building.

Shocked, Parker placed his hand over his stinging cheek and watched his sister run out onto the sidewalk. Embarrassed, he removed twenty dollars from his wallet and placed it on the table. "If you come near my sister again I'm going to have you arrested for contributing to the delinquency of a minor . . . wine . . . she's a child." Marching out of the restaurant, Parker hoped that his sister would be home by the time he got there. She wasn't.

Unable to go back to the apartment, Christine hailed a cab and asked the driver to take her to the Botanical Garden. Once she was there she walked the paths and found her friend Robert sitting on a bench reading a book. On the verge of tears, she sat down on the bench and sniffed. "I'm in trouble."

The words disturbing, Robert closed his book and turned his attention towards his young friend. "What do you mean?" He hoped it wasn't serious. "What kind of trouble?"

"My brother caught me drinking wine with a friend of mine." A tear escaped and ran down her cheek. "He embarrassed me in front of a bunch of people at the restaurant. I can never look my friend in the eyes again."

Pursing his lips, Robert saw that Christine was upset and he wasn't sure how to help her. "You're sixteen, Christine. I don't think too much of your friend if she was buying you wine."

"You too?" Christine didn't see what the big deal was. "It was just wine. Kids drink wine in France."

"But this isn't France." Robert could see that his young friend wasn't taking the situation seriously enough. "You must be 21 years old to drink in most states in this country. If an adult buys you alcohol that person is breaking the law and they know it. They are not doing you a favor. Your body is still growing and maturing. You may not know what your tolerance level for alcohol is and if you were to get drunk, it's entirely possible that someone could try to take advantage of you . . . Look, not all adults drink alcohol. I don't really drink that much. A beer once in a while . . . You have all the time in the world Christine. You don't have to race to adulthood."

She had heard her mother tell her that before and she knew that she should be taking their advice, but she felt older than sixteen. "But it was just wine and he didn't have to embarrass me by making a big deal about it in the restaurant . . . My brother treats me like a child. I'm not a child."

"No, you are young woman, but you have not reached your adulthood yet." Robert stood up. "Come on, let me take you home. I bet your brother is worried sick about where you are. If you want to be treated as an adult then you need to act like one. Running away from home is a childish thing to do. You need to go home and talk to your brother . . . and you need to stay away from your wine buying friend . . . she is not really your friend like I am. If she was, she would have made sure you didn't have wine to drink."

Reluctantly, Christine stood up. "I'll go back to the apartment, but I'm going to call my father and ask him to come and get me. I want to go home. Parker shouldn't have embarrassed me like that."

Placing his hand on her shoulder, Robert squeezed it. "You must do what you think is best, but I think you're being too harsh towards your brother. He's just trying to protect you. Come, let's go find my car and I'll take you home . . . If you do stay, you won't be seeing me anymore. My leave is up and I have to report to Fort Campbell in two days. I've really enjoyed seeing the sites with you. You're an excellent companion and friend."

"Thank you." Christine smiled at her friend. "If you'll give me your email address, I promise to write you."

"Thank you, Christine. That would be very nice." Robert moved towards the entrance. "I'm going to be deployed overseas soon. It will be my first trip overseas . . . my mother is a little worried, but I don't think it will be too bad. We'll see."

As they walked towards the entrance, Christine hugged herself. "My father was in the Army Rangers and he served a lot overseas. He was in Desert Storm . . . he was a prisoner of war, but he was rescued . . . he has scars on his feet from when he was tortured. His feet hurt him sometimes. I can tell because he limps when they do . . . My Aunt Cam told me about his being a prisoner of war." It made her think about just how mortal her parents were, how mortal she was. "I hope you have a safe tour and you make it home safely."

"Thank you." The mention of the girl's father being a POW and being tortured sent a chill down his back, but Robert knew that anything could happen in war and he was prepared or as prepared as he could be.

Ooooooooooooooooooo

Entering the apartment, Christine was surprised when her brother rushed towards her and hugged her.

"I'm sorry." She had time to think it over while Robert had driven her home and she had realized that running away from her brother had been something a child would do. She was having an eventful sixteenth year and so far, it had caused her more embarrassment than it was worth. "I shouldn't have run away. My friend Robert brought me home . . . he told me that I was acting like a kid and I was."

"Whose Robert?" Parker was finding out having his sister in New York was probably a mistake. She wasn't being supervised properly.

Moving away from her brother, Christine moved over to the coffee table and dropped her purse on the table. "He's just a guy I know . . . I've been going to museums and art galleries with him. I met Robert at the Botanical Garden and he's been very kind to go with me to other places that I wanted to see, so I wouldn't be alone . . . Oh don't worry. He's just a friend." She had seen the look on her brother's face and she didn't like it. "Don't be so suspicious. You're just like Dad. It is possible to be friends with some guy and not have sex with him."

His cheeks a bright red, Parker wasn't sure what to say. "If you say so . . . I want to talk to you about drinking wine."

Exasperated, Christine crossed her arms against her breasts. "Robert already gave me the speech about under-age drinking, so don't bother."

Parker pointed at the couch and tried to control his temper. "Sit down and listen." Once she was seated, he began to pace around the room "You know that Grandfather Booth drank. He was an abusive alcoholic who beat his family when he was drunk which was most of the time. He was addicted to booze, Christine."

"I know that. Mom told me." She interrupted him. "I was just drinking a little wine. I'm not an alcoholic."

"Listen to me!" Parker was desperate for his sister to understand. "Grandfather was an alcoholic and so was Uncle Jared. Uncle Jared could never keep a job for long and he mooched from Dad all the time. Finally, he got in over his head when you were about five years old and Dad tried to save him. Dad couldn't fix it and Uncle Jared ended up dead and Dad was almost killed. My mother told me all about it . . . I don't think Dad knows I know. He tries to protect his kids from the bad stuff and well, you know that's not always possible . . . Even if he hasn't told you about it, you're old enough to remember when he was in the hospital. I'm sure you've seen the scars on his stomach. Uncle Jared almost got Dad killed because he was addicted to alcohol . . . Also, Dad is addicted to gambling." He saw the shocked look on her face. "Yeah, he's been addicted since before I was born. He goes to Gambler's Anonymous meetings, but it's something he has to fight with every day. There's no cure for that kind of addiction. Grandfather and Jared wouldn't fight to get sober or at least not for very long. Dad did get it under control, but it's not easy for him."

"Why are you telling me all of this." Christine didn't know that her father had a gambling problem and it upset her.

Parker stopped pacing and sat down next to his sister. "Booths are weak Christine. Grandfather, Uncle Jared, Dad . . . we have addictive personalities. I don't drink alcohol and I don't gamble. Hell, I barely use aspirin when I have a headache because I'm terrified I'll become a loser like Uncle Jared and Grandfather and may become addicted to pain killers . . . we have to be on guard. We can't invite trouble to knock on our door. Life is tough enough. Fighting an addiction would just make my life worse and I don't want you to go down that path either. If we stay away from things that can make us weak . . . we can accomplish anything. Look at Dad. Deputy Director of the FBI. He fought for what he got and he made it. Look at your mother. She's the leading forensic anthropologist in the country. She's a famous author. She's careful and she doesn't drink too much. She's a responsible adult and she doesn't need a crutch like alcohol. Do yourself a favor Christine. Be strong. Stay away from anything that could turn you into a loser like Uncle Jared or Grandfather. You don't have to be a loser like those two. Do you understand?"

No one had ever talked to her like Parker had. So many family secrets and so many family troubles. She had a lot to think about. "I'm not a loser, Parker."

"Good, I'm glad to hear it." Parker hoped that she had really listened to him. "I loved Uncle Jared, Christine, but he never could see he had a problem. Not until it was too late. His life was wasted. Don't waste yours."

"I won't . . . I'm sorry, Parker. I thought coming here would be my chance to have a big adventure. I got in trouble earlier this year because I wanted to come here and have some fun. I got caught and Dad and Mom were so mad. I'm lucky they let me come to visit you."

"I know, but Christine, they were mad because they love you and so do I. We don't want you to get hurt. It's rough being sixteen, believe me. We all make crazy mistakes at around that age . . . maybe not as big as yours, but still no one is perfect. We just want you to think things through. Think about what you want and if what you are doing is right and don't try to grow up so fast. You're going to be an adult with adult responsibilities before you know it. Enjoy being a kid or a teenager. Just don't take crazy risks doing it."

She knew that Parker loved her and that just like her parents, he worried about her. "Yeah, I guess I've been pretty wild this year . . . Do you think Hank is going to go through this phase too?"

Snorting, Parker nodded his head. "Probably, but we can help him when he screws up, just like I'm trying to help you now. We have to stick together. It's a crazy mixed up world out there, Christine. Just look at your mother and Dad. Their lives have been filled with adventures and craziness, but they're good people and they love us. It's up to us to get it right."

Ooooooooooooooooooooo

Let me know what you think of my story. Thank you.


	39. Chapter 39

A/N: this is a reminder that these stories are not in any particular order.

Thank you for reviewing my story. I appreciate it.

I don't own Bones.

Ooooooooooooooooo

He'd had a lot of fun at Billy Cramer's house, but Billy's mother had told him it was dinner time and it was time for him to go home and he did. Entering his house, Hank smelled some delicious aromas coming from the kitchen and raced to the island, climbed on one of the stools next to it and shouted at his mother. "I'm so hungry Mommy, can I eat now?"

Lowering the lid back onto a pot on the stove, Brennan turned to face her son. "First, you must use your inside voice, Hank. I am standing approximately fifteen feet from where you are sitting. Second, you may have a small snack since I am still cooking dinner."

His stomach rumbling, Hank leaned on the counter and whispered. "Thank you."

Her son's antics were amusing and made her laugh. "You may have an oatmeal cookie or some yogurt plus a glass of juice or milk."

Pointing at the cookie jar, he grinned. "One cookie please and milk. Thank you."

Placing a cookie on a napkin, Brennan poured a small glass of milk and placed both on the island in front of her little boy. "Did you enjoy playing at Billy's house?"

A mouth full of cookie, Hank tried to talk around it. "Yea . . . yes." Swallowing the cookie, he drank some milk to clear his throat. "Billy has a basketball hoop in the backyard. Can I have one of those?"

"I don't see why not. It is an excellent way to exercise." Wiping a few crumbs from his lips with her finger, Brennan shook her head. "Please use your napkin."

Wiping his face with the napkin, Hank placed it down on the island and grabbed the rest of his cookie. Once that was finished, he drank the rest of his milk and wiped his face with the used napkin. "Can I watch television?"

"You may watch the National Geographic channel or the Discovery Channel." Brennan turned back to her stove and wasn't aware that her son was still sitting at the island until he spoke.

"Mommy, why don't you and Daddy call each other Dear or Sweetheart?" Hank stared at her and waited for her to turn and face him. "Billy's mommy and daddy call each other Dear and Sweetheart and so does Kerry's parents and so does Mike's. You call Daddy Booth and he calls you Bones. Don't you love each other?"

A little shocked, Brennan moved back over to the island and stared down at her son. "Of course, we do, Hank. We call each other by our names because that is what we like to be called."

"But you love Daddy, don't you?" The child was worried. What if his parents divorced like Kathy's parents had done the previous summer. "I don't want you to get a divorce."

"A divorce?" Brennan was startled that their conversation had taken such a bizarre turn. "Hank, your father and I are not getting divorced. I call your father Booth because that is what he likes to be called. I do love him and he loves me. You have nothing to worry about."

Hank wasn't sure. "But you don't call each other Dear or Honey or Sweetheart and I thought you do that when you're in love."

Frustrated, Brennan wasn't sure how to assure her son that all was well between her and Booth. "I love your father, Hank. I am telling you the truth. We aren't getting a divorce."

Jumping from the stool, Hank looked up at his mother. "I don't want you to get a divorce like Kathy's parents. She cries a lot." Running down the hallway to the living room, Hank didn't notice the worried look on his mother's face.

Oooooooooooooooooooooo

Removing his tie as he entered the house, Booth stuffed it in his jacket pocket and closed the door behind him. He had been in meetings all afternoon and getting rid of the tie helped him relax. As he entered the kitchen, he realized that he was very hungry. Grabbing a spoon, he removed the lid from one of the pots and dipped it into the rice pilaf.

"Booth, you're worse than Hank. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes." She took the lid from Booth's hand and placed it in the sink.

"But I'm hungry." Emptying the spoon into his mouth, he chewed the pilaf and swallowed. "That's good." Moving over to the cabinets, he removed some plates and set them on the counter. "I noticed the table isn't set."

Shrugging her shoulders, Brennan checked on the chicken breasts baking in the oven. "Christine is in her room doing homework. I didn't want to bother her. She has a mid-term test tomorrow."

Booth understood how nervous Christine got before important tests and decided to set the table for her. "Got it." As he carried the plates, forks and knives over to the table, he talked about his day. "That meeting with the Director was the longest we've had so far. He wants us to tighten our budgets a little and of course Jim Sanderson took that personally. Ever since he's taken over my department he acts like I don't know shit about investigations and how to run a division. He thinks he can snow me and that doesn't set well with me or the Director. Anyway . . ."

Racing down the hallway, Hank called out to his father. "Daddy, you're home."

After he placed the plate he was holding onto the table, Booth turned, squatted and caught his son as the boy threw himself at his father. "Hey there Buddy."

Glad to see his father home, the boy hugged Booth then let him go. "Mommy is making chicken. I love chicken."

"Yeah I know." Booth stood up and tousled the boy's hair. "I think everyone knows you like chicken don't they Bones?"

"Yes Dear." Brennan looked at the boy then back at her husband hoping he would follow her lead.

But of course he didn't. "Dear?" Staring at Brennan, Booth tried to figure out what was going on. "Dear?"

"Yes Honey." Brennan glanced at her son then back to Booth. "I believe you are correct. Everyone knows that Hank loves chicken."

"Are you drunk?" For the life of him, he couldn't figure out what Brennan was up to.

Irritated, Brennan gave up and returned back to the stove. "I am not inebriated. I have not partaken any alcoholic beverages since last Saturday . . . I will explain later Booth. Just . . . finish setting the table."

Puzzled, Booth turned his attention towards his son. "Hey Buddy, why don't you go get your sister and tell her to wash her hands, you too. We're going to eat in a few minutes."

After the boy had left the room, Booth walked over to the kitchen. "Okay, what's going on? Did I do something wrong? If I did you have to give me a hint, because I don't know what it is."

After pouring the Pilaf into a bowl, she removed the chicken from the oven. "Hank thinks we don't love each other because we don't use terms of endearment . . . He's afraid we're getting a divorce."

"He's eight years old. How the hell does he even know what divorce is?" His children were bright, there was no doubt about that, but sometimes he wondered just how bright. "Is someone we know getting a divorce?"

Removing the salad from the fridge, Brennan explained. "The parents of one of his friends divorced last year. Kathy Bridges . . . She's a very sad child."

"And Hank thinks we're getting a divorce because we don't slobber all over each other?" He took the bowl of salad from her hands and placed it on the counter. "You don't really want me to call you Dear do you? It seems kind of strange especially when you have a really great name already. Dear and Honey are just so ordinary and you are not ordinary."

"I agree, but Hank is worried and I was trying to assure him. He's just eight years old and he's naturally comparing us to his friend's parents."

Once he had the salad bowl on the table, Booth turned to face his wife. "I guess we can try it out, but it just seems wrong . . . I like calling you Bones."

Racing back into the dining area, Hank shouted. "Christine told me to tell you she's coming."

"Hank! Lower the volume Buddy, okay?"

As he moved his chair away from the table, Hank responded barely above a whisper. "Christine is coming." Seated he waited for dinner to be served.

Brennan carried the chicken and Pilaf to the table, while Booth carried the salad dressing and plate of sliced bread to the table. Just as they sat down, Christine appeared and sat down. "Oh my God, that test is going to be so hard, I just know it."

"You'll do fine, Christine. You always do." Booth pointed at the platter of chicken and spoke to Brennan. "Dear would you please pass the chicken?"

"Yes of course, Dear." Brennan handed the plate across the table to Booth then spooned some pilaf onto to Hank's plate.

Wary about what was going on, Christine first stared at her father then her mother. "What's going on? Are you two arguing again?"

Irritated, Booth handed Christine the plate of chicken after placing a piece on his plate and on the plate of his son. "No we aren't arguing? What makes you say that?"

"You're not calling each other by your name. It's creepy." Christine didn't like it when her parents argued and she wondered what had set them off.

"We're not arguing, Christine." Brennan sighed. "We're showing how affectionate we are."

Placing the plate of chicken on the table, the girl shook her head. "It's weird. It makes it look like you're fighting."

"I give up." Brennan threw her hands into the air. "Your brother wants us to show more signs of affection because he thinks we're getting a divorce and you think we're creepy . . . Booth, please pass the salad."

"Right." As the bowl was passed to Brennan, Booth looked at his son. "Listen Hank. Your mother and I are not getting a divorce. We don't call each other Dear and Sweetheart because it makes us sound weird and creepy. Get it?"

Chewing some chicken, he quickly swallowed and replied. "Okay . . . it does sound weird when you do it."

Rolling her eyes, Brennan poured some dressing on her salad. "This has been a very odd evening."

"No kidding." Booth laughed. "I never know what's going on around here."

Oooooooooooooooooo

Let me know what you think of my story. Thank you.


	40. Chapter 40

I had a few requests that Robert Tiller be brought back into this story. I hope you like it.

I don't own Bones.

Ooooooooooooooooooooooo

It has been three years since Christine had last seen Robert Tiller and she was finally going to meet him again. They had first met at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden when she was sixteen years old and visiting her brother in New York City. That year had been a crazy one for her and her life had been a little calmer since then.

The last time she had seen Robert he had told her that his leave was over and he was going back to Fort Campbell. He was getting ready to be deployed overseas and he wouldn't see her again. They had exchanged email addresses and they had kept in touch off and on for the next three years. Robert had been wounded on one of his missions in the middle east, though he wasn't allowed to talk about it and had fully recovered. Christine had fretted about the injury, but Robert had assured her that it was little more than a scratch. Christine had wanted to come and see him while he was in the hospital, but Robert had talked her out of it. He knew she was taking final exams that week and he knew he would be out of the hospital before her exams were done.

Those three years had been busy ones for Christine. She had graduated from high school at the age of seventeen and started attending Georgetown University later that fall. College had been a little over whelming at first but talking to Robert about it had steadied her. He had given her advice about how to handle unwanted attention from the older male students and that advice seemed to work. She didn't mind boys flirting with her, but she was going to school to get her degree and not to party. She knew that she seemed like an oddball to some of her classmates, but she didn't really care. Her education was being paid for by an inheritance she had been given upon graduating from high school and she didn't want to waste her opportunity. Her mother and father had planned on paying for her education if she wanted to wait to collect her inheritance, but she didn't want them to pay for it if they didn't have to.

Her mother and father had been surprised when she turned down an invitation to a sorority, but she had explained to them that she didn't have time for nonsense and they had both excepted it and backed her decision. Her mother had actually been quite pleased that her daughter was taking her education so seriously.

She didn't know why, but Christine had never mentioned Robert to her family. The fact that Robert was six years older than her might have influenced that decision. The thought of her father going off the rails about it was enough for her to remain silent. She knew her mother might have questions and would more than likely support her, but she didn't want to tell one parent and not the other. It seemed unfair, so she had kept her friendship a secret.

"Oh my God, Robert is going to be on leave and he's coming to see me." Christine was in the living room checking her email when Robert's message popped up. "He'll be here in two weeks."

Curious, Booth placed his newspaper down and stared at his daughter. "Whose Robert?"

Realizing that in her excitement she had spoken out loud, Christine placed her phone back in her jacket pocket. "He's a friend of mine. I met him three years ago when I was in New York visiting Parker. We've kept in contact ever since. He's a really nice guy. I think you'll like him."

"Why haven't you mentioned him before?" Booth found the whole thing rather odd. "You always introduce us to your friends or at least tell us about them."

Shrugging her shoulders, Christine stood up. "I don't tell you about all of my friends, Dad. Come on . . . Robert is in the service. He's in the 101st Airborne Division. Weren't you in that division?"

"Yeah, I was." Now suspicious, Booth frowned and stood up as well. "How old is this guy?"

Since she didn't really want an argument with her father, Christine started to walk down the hall towards the front door. "Tell Mom I'm not going to be able to make it for dinner tonight. I'm meeting Claire and we're going to study at the library. Mid-terms tomorrow."

"Christine! Robert who?" Booth watched his daughter hurry out the front door and slam it behind her. "Damn it! . . . Bones! Bones where are you?"

The sound of the front door being slammed a surprise, Brennan left Hank's bedroom carrying the vacuum cleaner. "Did Christine leave already? I didn't get a chance to talk to her. I wanted to give her some advice about her mid-terms."

"Whose Robert?" Booth met her in the hallway near the front door. "Christine says she has a friend named Robert who's serving in the 101st Airborne. Do you know who that is?"

"No, I don't." Brennan carried the vacuum cleaner into the living room. "Did she go to high school with him? I don't recall a Robert in her group of friends."

Following his wife into the room, Booth watched as she plugged the machine into the outlet near the fireplace. "She said he's someone she met in New York . . . I don't like this. She didn't tell me his last name and she wouldn't tell me how old he is . . . She did say the guy is coming for a visit in two weeks."

"Well she is nineteen and an adult." Brennan attached a brush to the end of the hose and paused before turning on the vacuum cleaner. "I suppose if she doesn't answer our questions now, Robert will answer them when he arrives. You're very good at interrogating suspects."

"Suspects . . . well not a suspect . . . yet." Booth rubbed his chin. "I'm going to call Parker and see if he knows who this guy is. He probably doesn't since he's never mentioned him."

Starting the vacuum, Brennan ran the brush over the bricks on the side of the fireplace. "Well, it's too late to put the jinn back in the enchanted lamp. If she has known him for three years, then we will just have to accept their friendship."

"We'll see." Booth moved into the kitchen and filled a glass with water. "She's too young to know someone in the 101st."

"But she is nineteen and is an adult." Brennan felt that she needed to reiterate that point. "We cannot control who her friends are . . . Well, not legally."

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Robert had been warned that Christine's parents might not be as welcoming as she would be, but he really wanted to see his friend and since his mother was on a cruise in the Mediterranean with her brother and sister-in-law he didn't have a reason not to see her. A little nervous, Robert ran his hand through his hair, cleared his throat and knocked on the front door. After a few moments, a boy that appeared to be 13 years old opened the door. "You must be Hank."

A slight smile on his face, Hank nodded his head. "And you must be the mysterious Robert. Come in mysterious Robert. I hope you enjoy the visit. Plead the fifth if Dad gets too nosy."

The boy's sarcasm wasn't lost on Robert. "I'll remember that, thanks." Entering the house, he spotted a young woman walking towards him. "Wow Christine. You didn't tell me that you grew some inches since I've seen you last. I like it."

Glad to see her friend, Christine stepped closer and threw her arms around him hugging him. "Just four inches . . . Gosh, I'm so happy you could come and see me. Did you check into your hotel yet? Why aren't you wearing your uniform? I wanted to see you in it."

Returning the hug, Robert chuckled. "Yes, I have and why would I wear my uniform? I wear it enough when I'm on duty. I like civie clothes." Releasing her, he noticed a tall man standing near the end of the kitchen island and knew that he must be Christine's father. "Mr. Booth, it's good to meet you. Christine has told me a lot about you and Dr. Brennan." She had warned him to never call her mother Mrs. Booth.

Now Booth knew why Christine would never tell him how old Robert was. The man was clearly six or seven years older than his daughter and they'd met in New York when she was sixteen. _Sending her to New York was a big mistake. Damn it!_ "I'm Christine's father. Her mother has gone to the store. She'll be back in a few minutes . . . So, you're in the 101st Airborne?"

"Yes Sir." Robert held out his hand to shake Booth's hand, but the man didn't reciprocate. Lowering his arm, he smiled. "5th Special Forces Group . . . Christine told me that you served too, 75th Ranger Regiment . . . Rangers lead the way."

"Yeah, we do." Booth was interrupted by the front door opening and closing.

Carrying a few grocery bags in her hands, Brennan handed them to Hank who was standing near the front door watching his father talk to his sister's friend. "Hank, please put these groceries away while I introduce myself to our guest."

Brennan noted the nervous look on her daughter's face and smiled at her to encourage her. "I assume that you are Robert." Brennan held out her hand to shake as she approached the younger man. "Christine has refused to tell us your last name and your age. I think she did that to protect you from my husband who would have done a search on you through the FBI database if he had been given that information."

Annoyed, Booth shook his head. "I would not. That would be unethical."

Unable to help it, Hank sniggered loudly while placing the grocery bags on the counter near the refrigerator.

Glaring at his youngest child, Booth shook his head and turned his attention back upon Robert. "What is your name? Unless you have a reason to keep it a secret."

"No secret, Sir. Corporal Robert Tiller. I was born in Fort Bragg in 2006 and moved a couple of times when I was a little kid." He didn't really want to give out this much information, but he felt he needed to assure Christine's parents. "My father died in Iraq in 2009 during 'Operation Iraqi Freedom'. He was serving in the 82nd Airborne Division . . . After that my mother moved us to Indianapolis to be near her brother and that's where I stayed until I joined the Army."

Clearing his throat, Booth held out his hand to shake the younger man's hand. Pleased when Robert shook his hand, Booth gave the man a grim nod of the head. "I was in Iraq during Operation Desert Storm and I was in Afghanistan in 2010. What was your father's name?"

"Sergeant First Class James Tiller, Sir." He knew that the older man was warming to him and he was grateful.

"I never met your father, but it's an honor to meet his son." Booth cleared his throat, turned and walked back into the living room. He hadn't thought about Iraq or Afghanistan for a while. He tried to live in the present since thinking about the past just made him sad when he did. He'd seen young men die, civilians die and sometimes it had been hard to take. Afghanistan had been a lonely uncertain time for him. He'd made a few poor personal decisions at around that time, but thankfully they hadn't ruined his future.

Passing Robert and Christine as she walked into the living room, Brennan pointed towards the front door. "Why don't you two go for a ride? Christine can show you some of the tourist sites in the city. Hank can go with you, if you don't mind . . . I plan to serve dinner at six."

Taking the hint, the three younger people left the house while Brennan stepped into the living room to be with her husband. "He has a lot in common with you Booth."

"Yeah." Booth turned from facing the window and smiled at his wife. "Well, he was a surprise . . . It seems like I can never escape my time in the Army. I hope Christine understands what it means to have a friend like Robert. His job isn't easy and being in Special Forces . . . She may not to get to see him very much."

Moving closer to Booth, Brennan stood near him without touching him. "You won't interfere in their relationship?"

"I may run a background check on him . . . come on you knew I'd do it once I found out what his name was, but I don't think I'll find anything to object to." Booth moved closer and placed his hands on her wrists. "Our little girl isn't a little girl anymore. We have to accept the fact that she gets to choose her friends and we don't get much of a say in it."

"No, we don't." Brennan moved closer and kissed him. "We have the house to ourselves. Would you like to take advantage of that?"

Booth pointed at the juke box. "How about a dance or two?" He was feeling a little melancholy and he loved to dance with Brennan when he was in that mood. She helped him to get past the sadness and he loved her for it.

"Dancing . . . just what I had in mind." The sadness was apparent in her husband's face and she knew that she could help cajole him into a happier frame of mind. "Afterward, perhaps we can have some sex. That would make you and me happy. Wouldn't it?"

"You bet." Turning on his juke box, Booth waited for the music to begin to play before he took her into his arms and started to dance. "The past has a way of sneaking up on me."

Ooooooooooooooooooo

Let me know what you think of my story. Thank you.


	41. Chapter 41

A/N: Anne1585 requested this story. I hope this is what you wanted.

I don't own Bones.

Ooooooooooooooooooo

Feeling a little old, but not too old, Booth wasn't sure if he was looking forward to his 60th birthday or not. He was still in pretty good shape, his bones hurt more than they used to and walking long distances were out of the question because of his feet, but still he considered himself to be in pretty good shape.

Brennan knew that Booth was feeling a little trepidation about his upcoming birthday. He tried to hide it, but she knew him well. He worried that his body was beginning to fail him and if he would live long enough to give her the 40 or 50 years he had promised her. She worried about his health too but tried to be subtle about it. Over the years she had changed some of his eating habits and lately he had cut down on drinking alcohol. The excess calories in beer and wine weren't something he wanted to deal with and his doctor harassed him about it whenever he saw him.

"Bones, let's not celebrate my birthday this year. It's just another year." Booth was leaning on the bar deciding whether or not he wanted a Scotch or just a club soda.

"We always celebrate your birthday, Booth. We celebrate everyone's birthday." Brennan didn't like the idea of not having a party to celebrate the anniversary of her husband's birth. He had made sure she and the children had had wonderful parties in the last year and she wanted to make sure he knew that he was loved just as much as he loved them.

Opening a botte of club soda, Booth turned to face Brennan. "I know, but I don't feel like having a party. Let's just have dinner together. We can get Hank to stay the night at Angela's and Hodgins' place. They won't mind. Just you and me. That's what I want."

Since he sounded sincere, Brennan nodded her head. "Alright, if that's what you want. We can have a romantic evening."

"Yeah, that's what I'm talking about." Booth loved Brennan so much and he loved to arrange to have romantic evenings when he could. Now that Hank was the only child living at home, it was easier to arrange, since the teenager loved hanging out with Hodgins' youngest son playing games on the expensive set up in the Hodgins/Montenegro game room.

"Well, if you change your mind, let me know. There is plenty of time."

Sipping some of his drink, Booth decided that maybe a beer would be a better idea. "Thanks, but I won't change my mind."

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The day of his birthday, Booth went into work like he normally did. He had made pancakes for his little family and added some whip cream on top of them to be a little festive. After all, it was his birthday. He planned to get off a little early and spend the rest of the day and evening with his lovely wife, but before he could leave the Director had called him in for a meeting. The meeting was used to deal with the Brantner case and the Director made sure to include a representative of the Justice Department in the meeting. By the time, the meeting was over, Booth was determined to leave. He was running two hours late and he called Brennan to let her know he was on the way.

Once he arrived home, he hurried in to the house and found Brennan waiting for him in the living room. "Bones, sorry I'm late. The Director insisted I be part of the meeting about the Brantner case."

"That's alright, Booth." Brennan was sitting on the couch with a glass of wine in her hand. There was a bottle of wine on the table with an empty glass sitting next to it. "Come join me."

After removing his coat and tie, he sat down next to his wife and reached for the empty glass. Before he picked up the glass, his attention was diverted to three small gift wrapped boxes sitting on the table. "What's this?"

"They're presents from your children. They may not be with us this at this moment, but they wanted you to have presents." Brennan smiled and set her glass down on the coffee table. "You know it's traditional for them to come up with a theme and give you presents for your birthday."

"Yeah, Christine started that." Booth picked up one of the boxes and shook it. "Do you know what they are?"

Slowly picking up a box, Brennan shook her head. "No, I don't. They are very good at keeping secrets."

Tearing off the paper on the box he held, Booth opened the box and found a set of Philadelphia Flyers salt and pepper shakers. Amused, Booth chuckled, grabbed the second box and found a set of RetroTV salt and pepper shakers. "I think I may know what the theme is this year." With the last box in his hand, Booth opened it and found a set of black and white skull salt and pepper shakers. "The kids did pretty good this year." Gathering them up, he walked over to a large shadow box on the wall near the jukebox and found space for them in the box.

His eyes drawn to the mid-tier shelf, Booth picked up a small rock and moved his thumb over the rough edges. "Christine found this rock near Pop's grave . . . When she gave it to me, I couldn't just throw it away. It was her first real present to me. She was so proud when she found it." He placed it back on the shelf and picked up a tiny clown figurine holding a garish red and yellow ball. "Parker figured out I was afraid of clowns when I took him to a circus. Even at seven years old he was pretty sharp and he had a wicked sense of humor. He gave me this for my birthday that year. Rebecca thought it was funny and I guess it was." He placed it back on the shelf and moved his hand to pluck a Spiderman Band-Aid Box from the shelf. "Hank used his allowance to buy this box of Band-Aids for me for my birthday, so I'd have some special band-Aids when I got hurt. He loved Spiderman when he was four years old." The box back on the shelf, Booth scanned the shelves and sighed. "I kind of wish the kids were here to help me celebrate my birthday, but they have their own lives to live and I did say I didn't want a birthday party."

Sympathetic, Brennan placed her hand on his arm. "My birthday present for you is out on the back patio. Would you like to see it?"

Pushing his regret to the back of his mind, Booth turned and kissed Brennan. "Of course, I would." As he followed her through the kitchen, Booth decided that he would make the evening a happy one. After all, he was spending it with the woman he loved and what could be better than that?

Once through the door and on the back patio, Booth was surprised when a crowd of people surged forward and yelled out. "Happy Birthday."

Shocked, Booth stepped back one step and laughed. "You got me . . . I did not expect this and that was a fact."

Amidst a lot of laughter and cheers, Hank stepped forward and handed his father a flat box. "We know you said you didn't want a birthday party and Mom told us you were serious, but . . . well, we begged her to let us throw you this party and she said we could. We've got brisket on the barbecue . . . Uncle Aubrey put it on this afternoon and Uncle Hodgins, Aunt Angela and Aunt Cam and Arastoo and the kids brought enough food to feed a . . ." He paused and looked at Aubrey. "Well, Uncle Aubrey."

The laughter was instantaneous and everyone could hear Aubrey's protest." Hey Kid, you may not get any dinner at all."

His laughter loud, Hank shook his head. "Mom gave in so don't be mad at her, Dad. It's your 60th birthday and we just couldn't let it go without a party."

Before he could reply, Parker worked his way through the crowd and handed his father a gift wrapped box. "Happy Birthday Dad. Dene couldn't come, but Joseph has the flu and so they stayed home. I couldn't miss your birthday, Dad."

Startled that is son had flown from England to be with him on this day, Booth took the box and crooked his right arm around his son's neck. "I'm glad to see you, Parker."

Brennan pointed to the table near the grill and smiled. "If you will take the seat of honor, Booth."

Filled with emotion, Booth handed the boxes to his daughter Christine and pulled Brennan into his arms. "You know me so well, Bones. Thank you for the party. It's probably the best present ever."

The cheers were loud and happy and more than one neighbor wondered what was going on at the Booth/Brennan household.

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Let me know what you think of my story. Thank you.


	42. Chapter 42

(In the future)

Thank you for reviewing my story. I appreciate it.

I don't own Bones.

Oooooooooooooooo

Sweating and tired after mowing and weeding the yard, Booth took off his t-shirt, lay down on the couch in the living room and soon found sleep.

For an hour the house was enveloped in silence until Brennan returned home from the store with her children in tow. Noticing that her husband was sleeping in the living room, she asked her children to play in their room while she retired to her office and started to work on notes for her latest novel.

After a while, Hank became bored playing in his room and since Christine was reading, he found his way into the living room and spied his father in deep slumber. Moving closer, he noticed the scars on his father's stomach and chest and became concerned. His father always wore a t-shirt, shirt or robe so he couldn't ever remember seeing the scars.

Rushing down the hallway as fast as his four year old legs would carry him, Hank entered the bathroom and found his special Band-aids. Carrying the box of Spiderman strips into the living room, he opened it and spilled the Band-aids onto the coffee table. His tongue between his teeth, the young boy tore open one of the strips and after several fumbling tries, managed to place one of the strips across his father's stomach. Careful not to disturb his father, he continued to open Band-aids and place them across the scars he could reach.

Itching, Booth moved his hand across his stomach and woke instantly. Puzzled, he picked off a strip and stared at it. "What the hell?"

"It's for your cuts, Daddy." Hank was holding another Band-aid in his hands waiting to place the next one on one of his father's scars. "Mommy says you have to cover cuts or you can get sick."

Careful not to knock his son down, Booth moved his feet to the floor and sat up. "Buddy, these aren't cuts. They're just scars." Reaching down, he lifted the boy's left index finger. "Remember when you poked Little Seeley in the nose and he bit your finger. You can still see the scar where he bit you."

Recalling the injustice of being bitten, Hank grimly shook his head. "He was bad. He made my finger bleed and Mommy said I couldn't play with Little Seeley."

"Well, not for a few weeks anyway." Booth smiled as he counted the Band-aids on his chest. "Thank you for the Band-aids, but I don't need them, Buddy."

His finger outlining the scar on his father's stomach, Hank began to cry. "Does it hurt, Daddy?"

"What? No, Hank it doesn't hurt." Pulling the boy onto his lap, Booth rubbed the child's back in small circles. "Don't cry Hank. I promise they don't hurt. Your finger doesn't hurt does it?"

Sniffing, Hank ran his hand under his nose. "No, Daddy . . . Who hurt you? I . . . I . . ." He was filled with emotions that he didn't quite understand and was partially filled with fear. What if his father was hurt and he went away like Timmy Johnson's Dad did? He didn't want his father to go away. "I don't want you to go to heaven, Daddy. Stay here with me."

A little alarmed that the conversation was taking such a turn, Booth hugged the boy. "Hank, I'm not sick I'm not going anywhere. These scars are just old ones from before you were born. They don't hurt me and you don't have to worry about them . . . Do you understand?"

His tears slipping down his cheeks, Hank nodded his head. "Yes . . . I love you Daddy."

"Well, I know you do. You used your special Band-aids and you don't do that for just anyone do you?" Booth was trying to cheer his child up and he felt like a failure. Placing the boy back on his feet, Booth grabbed his damp t-shirt and slipped it back on. "Hey, how about some ice cream and we can watch cartoons together. How does that sound?"

"Chocolate ice cream?" Hank leaned on his father's knee. "I like chocolate."

Standing, Booth placed his hand on son's shoulder. "Go sit at the table and I'll get us some ice cream . . . Just let me clean up this mess on the coffee table and . . . here you take your Band-aides . . . you can put them in your room after we eat dessert."

Solemnly, the boy took the box and shook it. "Okay, Daddy . . . You can use them when you want."

"Thanks, Buddy. I appreciate that."

Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The day was coming to an end and Booth felt that he needed a long soak in his tub. While Brennan sat on their bed and checked her email, Booth slipped out of his t-shirt and rummaged in his dresser for a fresh t-shirt and boxers. Turning, he started to walk towards the bathroom, when he felt Brennan's hand on his arm pulling him to a stop.

"What is that on your chest and stomach?" Moving around her partner, she stared at the Band-Aids adorning her husband's torso.

Amused, Booth peeled off one of the plastic strips and chuckled. "I made the mistake of lying on the couch this afternoon without a shirt on and Hank freaked out a little bit. He thought I was hurt and he covered some of my scars with his special Band-Aids." His smile gone, Booth continued to peel off the strips. "Poor little kid, I scared him. I need to remember to wear a shirt when I'm around the kids. They don't need to see these."

Helping her husband finish removing the plastic strips, Brennan smoothed her hand across his flat stomach. "They don't look bad, Booth. I for one think of them as a map . . . a map of your life. Hank is just too young to understand that scars can be bigger than the one on the end of his finger."

Removing her hand from his stomach, Booth kissed the back of her hand. "It's alright Bones. It is what it is. I'd rather not have been shot believe me, but I was and . . . well the scars are a reminder that things can wrong really quickly, so I should appreciate what I have and I do . . . You noticed that he used his special Band-Aids right? He said I can use them when I want to."

"Wow. I am truly impressed." Brennan walked over to the trashcan near the dresser and threw away the wad of plastic strips. "He hoards those and won't let Christine use any. He told me that he got them for Christmas from Santa Claus and only he was supposed to use them."

"Well, what can I say? I'm special." Booth moved closer to his wife and rested his hands on her hips. "If you want to join me in the tub, I'll show just how special."

Her eyes twinkling, Brennan moved her hands up his chest to his shoulders. "I think that is an offer that I can't refuse, Booth."

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